Agent Limit
by Cortega
Summary: It was just after dethroning the Indigo Champion that Ash Ketchum vanished. Five years later, with Team Galactic and new Plasma joining forces to forge a terrible new world, a team of agents from the International Police rises to combat this new threat: five men strong they are, each one a powerful and deadly warrior... And one unlike any other, a man of thunder and steel. REVIEW!
1. Prologue

**Hi there! It's been a while since I've updated, so I'll give all of you, my readers, a little teaser for the new, revamped, **_**"Agent Limit"**_**. It will be much darker and edgier, but with the same juvenile humor and fourth-wall-breaking as before. However, the full-on rewriting will only come once I've finished **_**"Code Geass: Lelouch of the Redemption."**_

_Mossdeep City, Hoenn, The_ Capsized Tanker_, 2:44 AM_

The man sat in the back corner of the bar, watching as the world moved by. His face was shadowed by a wide-brimmed hat and a shock of black hair, though to peek beneath would not offer a curious passerby any relief, for the upper-right part of his face was wrapped in bandages. He gazed dispassionately into space, accompanied by a golden-haired rodent, until another man joined him, bringing a pint of beer in either hand and balancing a bottle of ketchup on his shoulder. Silently, the dark-haired man took the drink, sipping it moodily while the rodent took the ketchup, cooing in gratitude.

"I take it you're here to see me off? Or is '_Duke Nukem Forever_' finally coming out?" He asked jokingly.

"It's only fitting," Said the second. He too, was concealed, face hidden in the depths of a black cowl, a few stray strands of hair the color of violets drifting aimlessly on a current of air, "after all that we've been through. And no."

The first chuckled, "You got that right, Landing. Remember the time we were all cooped up in that den in Orre, and you wanted to kill and eat Pikachu?"

Landing laughed loudly, "I still have the scars to prove it, Limit."

Limit made a rasping sound that could be construed as a wry chuckle, "So, have you had any contact with the targets?"

Landing shook his head, "No, it's too risky. I could be seen. I sent Legend ahead, but it's really more of your field; are you sure you won't reconsider?"

Limit shook his head, "I'll be most useful up there, given my unique abilities. But don't worry, I won't be far."

Landing didn't seem to like what his friend was saying, but didn't voice any objections, "Take care of yourself, okay? We don't need you losing bone density."

"Don't worry," Limit said, standing, having drained his mug, "I survived this," he added, tapping his bandages, "and now, nothing can harm me." He turned to leave, "To me, Pikachu."

The yellow rodent nodded, planting a brief kiss on Landing's cheek as it followed its trainer, dragging the half-full ketchup bottle with it. Landing stared at his nearly-empty glass wryly, "Nothing can hurt you, eh?" He snickered to himself, "Nothing but love."

Downing the rest of his drink, he stood and moved to the door, unsurprised to see that limit was already gone. He shed the cloak as he walked to the airfield, tucking it into the bag he concealed beneath it. He walked to a private hangar, depositing his baggage there, and boarded a private jet.

"Where to now, Paul?" Asked the pilot, a dark-haired man with the faint beginnings of a beard draped in a light-brown jacket.

"Surprise me." Landing replied, putting on a pair of sunglasses and leaning back, "I always liked surprises."

0000000000

_Pallet Town, Kanto, Same Time_

Delia Ketchum awoke hastily as she heard a muffled cry ring out. She hastened to the child's room, donning a bathrobe swiftly in a well-practiced movement, "What's wrong?"

"I had a bad dream." The young boy said. He was small, not yet a teen, with a shock of black hair, "I saw black smoke, and then Daddy appeared. He said something that I couldn't hear, and then he fell into the smoke. When I looked again, his ghost was coming out of the smoke. It was really scary!" He began to cry at this last part, clutching the front of her robe as she sat down on the bed.

She petted the boy's head and made soft hushing sounds as she brought him close to her, "Your Daddy is fine, he's just abroad."

"Yes, but…" The child hesitated, "Daddy said that his job requires him to things that could hurt him. I don't want Daddy to get hurt!" He began to tear up again before she hushed gently.

"Your Daddy won't get hurt. Nothing on Earth can hurt him." She murmured to the child.

"Promise?" The child asked quietly, holding out his slender pinky finger.

Delia took it without hesitation, "Promise. Now you get to sleep, little boy. You need to get up early and go help Professor Oak, okay?"

"Okay. Goodnight, Grandma." The boy said, kissing her on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Satoshi." She whispered, returning the kiss to his soft hair.

**So, there are many unanswered questions here. Where is Limit going? Who is Satoshi? And when the hell is '**_**Duke Nukem Forever**_**' coming out, anyway? All this and more will be answer in the next chapter of "**_**Agent Limit**_**" (which won't be released for another few months).**


	2. The International Police

**I've FINALLY finished the first chapter. I hope you all appreciate everything I do for you (is joke.) Anyways, enjoy your fanfic chapter, AND MAKE SURE YOU REVIEW!**

**UPDATE (9/5/11): I made some changes to the dialogue and added translation notes at the end for Looker's Italian phrases. Have a good Labor Day!**

**Chapter One: SilverEye**

_Pewter City, Kanto, 3:53 PM, Three Days Later, April 24, 2011 of the Pokémon International Calendar_

Brock Harrison looked up from the large and detailed schedule that was laid out in front of him, "Is this _everything_?" He asked incredulously, setting aside the newspaper that announced the addition of a new information module to the Orbital Satellite Station _Tieria_.

"Yes," Glacia answered, smiling devilishly, "you're marrying _my_ daughter. Everything must be perfect!"

"But," Brock was beginning to get worried as he glanced nervously at his father-in-law-to-be, "isn't this just a bit excessive?"

"Whatever do you mean, son?" Drake asked, puffing on his pipe, only for it to be snatched from his mouth by his wife.

"How many times have I told you NOT to smoke inside the house?" Glacia snarled, "And I hope you found yourself some decent clothes!"

"What's wrong with this, honey?" Asked the last of the Hoenn Elite Four, tugging at the collar of his coat, an open garment that exposed his bare chest beneath.

"You are not wearing that to our daughter's wedding!" Glacia said in a low, threatening voice, "That is, if you know what's good for you…"

Drake cringed at the devious expression on his wife's face, and inched behind Brock, "So, son, what's excessive about this plan that Glacia—I mean, we—" He amended hastily at his wife's glare, "came up with?"

"Well, for one thing," Brock began, sifting through the forty-odd pages, "do you have any idea how much work this will entail, mom?"

"Of course, Brock dear." Glacia said smiling in a way that caused Brock to instinctively reach for the Pokéballs stored at his belt, "That's why I've invited all the Gym leaders to help!" She put a finger to her chin thoughtfully, "Well, the men anyway. The girls and I will go shopping!" She declared, and neither of the two men present had the courage to speak out against her.

"Mother," Came an exasperated voice from the other room, "can you come in here and help me with this? I don't know where the troupe of dancing Mankeys is supposed to go."

"Down the road, at the pavilion that the boys are going to set up, sweetheart!" Glacia called.

"Got it, mom."

As Glacia left the room to help her daughter, the phone rang, "I've got it!" Brock said, turning on the videophone's screen, "Hello?"

"Hey there, Brock!" On the screen was a brunette with two long sweeps of hair on either side of her head, restrained by an orange and green bandanna.

Brock smiled at his old friend, "How's it going, May?"

"Everything's great here, Brock!" Came another voice, this time belonging to a girl with long blue hair that fell in a cascade around her head, a small, white hat riding low on her hairline, "We're in Celadon City, getting ready for our next contest tomorrow."

Brock smiled, "That's good, Dawn. Hopefully, neither of you will beat the other." He joked, prompting two bouts of laughter.

"We called because we wanted to know if you can come watch us, Brock." May said, "It's been so long, and we want to show you how much we've improved!"

Brock glanced around nervously, feeling that his future mother-in-law was dangerously close, "I'll see. Things are kind of hectic around here, what with preparing for the wedding and all."

"Oh, that's right!" May said, "I'm the maid of honor, right?" She frowned, "But that's in two weeks, surely you can take some time off to visit some old friends?"

Brock chuckled nervously, "I'll see what I can do. Does that sound okay?"

May pouted a bit, "I'm not happy, but it'll do."

Dawn nodded cheerfully, "See you soon, Brock! If not, then see you in two weeks!"

With that she hung up, leaving Brock to ponder his fate. He was about to tell Glacia about it when a strong pair of hands gripped him by the shoulders and pulled him aside, "Drake?"

"Listen, son," The Dragon Master said in a whisper, "I know you'll be asking for Glacia's approval of this, but we both know that she'll shoot it down faster than a hunter does a Tauros, so please…" He trailed off, then looked at his future son-in-law desperately, "Save yourself!" Then he gripped Brock by the collar and hurled him an impressive distance out the door, "I'll tell Glacia that you've gone off to visit an old friend!"

Brock looked back briefly, "Thanks, dad." Then he took off at a run, making sure that his Pokéballs were properly secured.

Drake swallowed nervously as his wife walked in, "Honey…"

"Drake, make sure that next time you file away the church booking papers, you don't put it in the pantry." She chided, holding up a sheaf of papers.

"Oh, right…" Drake muttered.

"Where's Brock?" Their daughter asked as she walked in, long black hair swaying as she moved.

"H-he's gone off to visit an old friend." Drake said, "He'll be back in two days."

"Oh, will he be okay?"

"Of course, Lucy." Drake said, looking at his daughter, the Battle Frontier's Pike Queen, "He'll be fine."

0000000000

_Pallet Town, Kanto, Same Time_

"Grandma, I'm home!" Satoshi yelled as he stepped through the door.

"I'm in the kitchen," Delia answered from the kitchen, where she was washing the dishes, "How was school?"

"It was fun!" The child said, "We went to Grandpa Samuel's ranch and got to learn about all kinds of stuff."

"I see," Delia smiled, "And what did you learn?"

"Oh, that's easy! I learned… um…" The child tapped his chin, "um…"

"Why don't you go think about that then?" She said, gently ushering him out, "Go play with Pichu."

"Okay, Grandma!" He said, "Pichu, I'm home!"

The Electric-Type rodent ran out to greet him, its short little tail wiggling behind it. It had unusually colored fur, golden, rather than the normal pale yellow, almost resembling a Pikachu, "Pi, cha!"

As the boy ran off, Delia smiled slightly, remembering the day that the now-eight-year-old child had been brought into her life. As she returned to washing the dishes, she reflected on how the boy was very much like his father. At this, her expression darkened slightly, remembering everything that had befallen her only son.

"If there is any justice in this world," She murmured, "that never would have happened to him." As she picked up the next dish, it shattered in her hand, accompanied by an enormous explosion. She cried out in pain, holding her bleeding hand to her stomach, "Satoshi…" She whispered, running outside.

"Satoshi!" She found the boy at the end of the street, cradling Pichu, "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm scared, Grandma." He said, tears running down his face, "Grandpa Oak's lab…"

With a look of horror, she ran toward the house of her old friend, "Go back to the house! Stay there until I get you, and call your Uncle Paul!"

"Okay, Grandma." The boy nodded, running toward his home, "Come on, Pichu!"

The golden-colored Pichu tailed the boy as he ran to the house, moving quickly to the videophone, dialing frantically, "Come on, Uncle Paul…"

The call was picked up quickly, "Satoshi!" Came a good-natured voice.

"Uncle Paul!"

Seeing the child's distress, the purple-haired man on the other end of the line grew serious, "What happened?"

"Somebody attacked Grandpa Oak's lab! They blew it up!"

"What?" Paul was shocked, "I'll notify the police, along with my colleagues. Are you hurt?"

Satoshi shook his head, tears still falling, "No."

"Okay, stay out of the vicinity of the lab, I'll be there soon." Paul said as he seized a dark brown coat that lay across his chair, "Be strong, kid!" He ordered, hanging up, already moving to the door.

0000000000

_Satellite Module _Virtue_, Orbital Satellite Station _Tieria_, 4:22 PM Kanto Western Time_

Limit turned slowly, the wreath of white silk floating aimlessly around his head. He gazed dispassionately at the flow of numbers that scrolled across the inside of the sphere, too fast for the average human eyes to read. As he lifted a hand to manipulate some unseen object, a soft ringing alerted him to an incoming call. He quickly redid the white wrappings as he turned to the communications module, a lock of jet-black hair drifting lazily from beneath it, and picked his hat from where it floated, making himself more presentable before he answered the call.

"This number is supposed to be restricted." He noted quietly as he gazed at his purple-haired colleague who appeared on a video pane that opened in front of him.

"I have access," Landing retorted simply, "and I wouldn't use it unless it was urgent. Professor Oak's lab has been attacked!"

"What?" Limit asked, alarmed, "There was no intelligence about this in _Legion_'s databanks." He muttered seriously, "When did this happen?"

"Not more than half an hour ago." Landing replied, "I'm on my way there to make a preliminary assessment."

"Have you notified the Parents?" He asked.

"Yes, they'll be sending in our team. You are to standby on the _Tieria_ until further orders are issued." Landing answered.

"Understood." Limit saluted briefly, "Good luck with your mission, Landing."

"May whatever God exists be with us, my brother." He gave his blessing quietly, and then hung up.

Limit closed his good eye for a moment, "In this world, there is no God…" He removed his hat, spinning off out of the exit port above, and undid the silken bandages from around his head, "After death, there is no God…" He took out a photograph, depicting a happier time, "I can't believe in things like that, not after what happened…" He let the slip of paper float away, then turned again, long black hair drifting around him like a headdress of spines, a flash of blue lighting up the inside of the sphere, "_Legion_, contact Sumeragi Fei Koya; Priority Communication Access to Agent 12461, Codename: Vladimir Limit, Signal Theta."

"_A Code Orange threat, Agent Limit?_" The computer system named _Legion_ asked sardonically, "_You must be in really deep shi—_"

"Yes, _Legion_, we are, now establish communication!" Limit snapped out the command, then sighed, _'I wish they hadn't built him to be such a smart-ass…'_

"_Communication link secure; your available talk time is: two-hundred and fifty-eight minutes._" The computer spoke up, having completed its task.

A secure video link opened as a man with spiky blond hair quickly asked, "Limit, I was just about to call."

"Have you heard the news?" Limit asked as he floated past the screen in his rotation in the Information Sphere, "Samuel Oak's lab was attacked. My orders are to remain here as the communications interface, correct?"

"Yes, Landing just called us." Koya answered, "Remain on the _Tieria_ and await further orders. Samuel Oak is at the forefront in research, and we have to do everything we can to recover both his research data and him, if he is still alive."

"Understood, I'll begin monitoring the worldwide communication network to locate any traces of his whereabouts if he's alive." Limit said, about to hang up.

"Limit, wait." Koya said, staying his Agent's hand, "Are you okay? I mean, after everything—"

"A soldier must always place his orders first, and his own feelings last, sir." Limit said quietly, then saluted, "I will carry out my task dutifully."

Koya looked at him and smiled, like a man to his nephew, and saluted, "Best of luck, Agent Limit. Keep the airwaves clear for our Agents."

"Captain's orders, sir." Limit acknowledged, closing the link. When he had finished instructing _Legion_ to prevent any low-priority communications from transmitting all across the Kanto region, he turned to the data streams, eye flashing dangerously, "Now, let's see what you're hiding, Cyrus."

0000000000

_Pallet Town, Kanto, 4:24 PM_

Delia's breath came in gasps as she finally reached the bend to Oak's ranch. The house was left untouched, but the back part of the lab was ablaze, small fires raging. The fire department had already arrived, and was putting out the blaze when her videophone rang. Hastily pulling it from her pocket, she sighted the caller ID and answered.

"Paul?" She asked.

"Mrs. Ketchum!" The Sinnoh-native trainer's voice was strained, "Are you alright? Satoshi told me what happened."

"I'm fine. Are you coming?" She asked frantically.

"I'm already on my way, and I've got two Agents from Section 4 with me." Paul said, "Don't get injured, our ETA is thirty-five minutes."

"Right." Delia nodded, stepping back a few paces, "What should I do until then?"

"Wait there and make a full report to any of the authorities already on-site." Paul instructed, "We'll be there soon."

"Be safe, okay Paul?" She said, "If you don't come back safely, young man, you're going to get an earful from me!"

"Yes, mom," Paul remarked sarcastically as he hung up.

0000000000

_Cerulean City, Kanto, 4:32 PM_

Brock looked around as he entered the Cerulean City Gym, "Well, this is a change of scenery." He said aloud, marveling at how the gym had been redesigned.

"Brock!" He heard his name called by the energetic, redheaded Gym Leader as she tackled him into a tight hug, "How are you?"

"I'm fine," He managed to force out, "but, I think you're breaking my spine."

"Oh, sorry." Misty giggled as she released him, "So how's Lucy?"

"She's fine. Don't forget that you're a bridesmaid." He reminded her in a mock-stern fashion, prompting another round of giggles, "I could call her now so you can talk to her."

"Do it." Misty replied, smiling at the thought of talking her friend. She and Lucy had bonded five years ago after she had had a fallout with another of her friends.

Brock held up the phone on speaker as it began to ring. However, instead of being picked up, the call was interrupted by an automated message, "_We are sorry,_" Said the robotic voice, "_all communications throughout the Kanto region are being blocked due to a Code Orange emergency occurring in Research Area 1. All civilians are asked to remain calm while the International Police handle the situation. Please have a nice day._" With that, the line was cut, and all that was left was a beeping noise.

But Brock and Misty both knew what was going on. All Gym Leaders had a responsibility to protect their city, and so, they knew the Emergency Code. Code Orange meant that a terrorist attack, or something that appeared to be a terrorist attack, had occurred somewhere. Research Area One pertained to Professor Oak's lab in Pallet Town.

They both had the same thought at the same time: _'Something's happened to Professor Oak!'_

As Brock rushed outside, he noticed many people looking at their cellphones in confusion, but what really got his attention were the three Pokémon, a Honchkrow, Skarmory, and Swellow, flying southeast, toward Pallet Town. He recognized the man crouched on the Honchkrow's back, the distinctive stern expression and purple hair betraying their owner's identity.

"Paul!" He yelled, trying to get his old acquaintance's attention.

The cry worked as the purple-haired man looked down, identifying the speaker, "Brock?" He steered Honchkrow downward with a gentle tug on its shoulder, alighting softly on the ground, "What are you doing here?"

"I was on my way to Celadon City to see May and Dawn's contest there when I ran into Misty." He gestured to his oldest friend, "Misty, this is Paul."

"I remember you!" She cried out, "You were that rude little kid who beat my sister eight years ago!"

"Yeah, sorry about that," Paul chuckled, rubbing the back of his head nervously as he recalled his previous attitude toward both people and Pokémon alike.

"Hey," Brock began, "have you noticed this communications block?"

"Of course," Paul said, "We're on our way to the site of the attack."

"What?" Brock asked, confused, "Why?"

"International Police business," Answered a new voice, this one belonging to a tall man with dark hair and a stubbly chin as he dismounted from his Skarmory, "Come on, Landing, we need to get moving."

"Looker, there's nothing we can do immediately, so just settle down for five minutes." Paul snapped.

The man called Looker grumbled quietly as he walked back to his Skarmory, who was squawking in agitation, making hushing sounds, "It's okay girl, we'll be on our way as soon as Landing's done with his little chat."

"International Police?" Brock questioned.

The Sinnoh-native trainer rolled his eyes and smirked as he drew his wallet in a smooth, practiced motion, flipping it open to display his ID card, "Agent 12574, Codename: Norfolk Landing. Division Three, Section Six, Secret Intelligence." He replaced the wallet as he looked to the west, "We need to get to Pallet Town quickly." He remounted Honchkrow as Looker did the same, "Stay here! This is my job."

And then he was gone, winging his way toward Professor Oak's lab, followed by Looker on Skarmory, and the as-yet-unseen trainer of the Swellow. Brock sighed as he ran back into the Gym.

"Where are you going?" Misty asked curiously as she saw Brock pick up the phone.

"It said the airwaves were being blocked," He said as he furiously punched in some numbers, "but it said nothing about landlines."

Misty understood instantly, "Who are you calling?"

"I'm going to get a message out to May and Dawn in Celadon City, as well as Max, wherever he is. His parents will be able to contact him, since only the Kanto region is being locked down." Brock said quickly as the line was picked up, "Nurse Joy?"

"_Yes, this is she,_" Replied the voice that, at one time, would have had him falling head over heels.

"I need you to get a message to Dawn Berlitz and May Maple. Tell them to get to Pallet Town ASAP, and tell May to contact her brother, Max, to get him there as well."

"What are you going to do, Brock?" Misty asked, hesitant.

"I'm going to what I can do to help." Brock growled as he dashed out of the Gym, throwing a Pokéball ahead of him, "Go, Crobat!" He cried as the purple bat soared from its Pokéball, "Crobat, can you take me to Pallet Town?"

"Bat!" It replied vigorously, offering its leg to Brock.

"I'm going ahead, Misty." Brock said as he took off, "We'll wait for you there."

Misty watched as Brock flew off after Paul, then chuckled softly, "You big dummy." She murmured, then dashed off to the river, "I have a lot of catching up to do."

0000000000

_Pallet Town, Kanto, 4:53 PM_

Delia looked up as a shadow fell across the scrap-littered field around Samuel Oak's lab, cast by a Honchkrow, Skarmory, and Swellow. She ran forward, passing under the police cordon at the authorities' protests, to greet them.

"Hello there, Paul!" She called to the man riding the Honchkrow.

"Ma'am! You can't go in!" Officer Jenny yelled as she caught up to the auburn-haired mother.

"It's okay, Officer," Paul said, whipping out his wallet to present his identification card, "she's with me."

Jenny snapped into a salute near-instantaneously, "Yes, sir, Agent Landing."

Paul snapped the leather binding shut as he looked to Delia, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Paul." Delia insisted, "It's the Professor who I'm worried about. They didn't find anybody in the rubble, so he must have been taken…"

"Yes, it certainly seems so." Paul muttered as he took out a communications earpiece, "Contact Sumeragi Fei Koya, Priority Communications Access to Agent 12574, Codename: Norfolk Landing." He waited until the other line was picked up, "Koya, we're on-site, what are your orders?"

"_Good._" The blonde-haired man's voice came easily, "_Run a preliminary investigation, then interview anyone who's had contact with Oak. If necessary, you have permission to extend your investigation even further._"

"Understood," Paul said curtly, "thank you, sir." He hung up, turning to the Skarmory's rider behind him, "Looker, wake Legend up and sweep the premises."

Looker nodded, turning to the Swellow, having already given Skarmory orders to keep the skies above them clear. On the Flying-type Pokémon's back, there was a young woman dozing softly. She had mousy brown hair that fell in short, wavy curls to her shoulders, a magenta jacket over a light green top and a pair of generic jeans that flared at the ankle, and she hugged a spherical, orange ball, about the size of a melon, to her chest.

Crouching beside the bird, he contemplated his options. After a moment, he made up his mind, taking a Pokéball from the sleeping woman's belt.

"Return, Swellow, and thanks for putting up with Legend." Looker said, chuckling.

The Normal-type crooned as it dissolved into a beam of red that was consumed by the Pokéball, leaving the woman to descend to the ground, landing on her posterior. This had little effect, other than causing her to turn on her side and curl around the sphere. Looker rolled his eyes before nudging the woman with his foot.

"Legend, look sharp!" He ordered.

Legend stirred, yawning quietly, "Are we there yet?"

Looker nodded, looking at the scorched lab, "We're here, but it isn't pretty."

The orange orb came to life, two lights flashing, and two wing-like flaps opening at the top as it hopped up and down, "Looks like hell! Looks like hell!"

"I really wish you hadn't taught Haro how to swear," Legend said drowsily, rubbing her backside with one hand.

"Oh, hush," He muttered, "I was bored, it was a Sunday evening, and we were cooped up in a _gulag_ in Fiore… You know what that's like."

"Unfortunately, yes, I do." Legend nodded, now half-awake, "Where's my morning coffee?"

"It's five in the afternoon." Looker noted, glancing at his watch.

He was startled as he was seized by the shirt collar and shoved against the fourth wall, "I want my _precious_!" Legend hissed, her voice becoming a hoarse rasp.

Passing over that, Looker gazed beyond the fourth wall at the audience, "Was that a _Lord of the Rings_ reference, Cortega? Man, you're losing your edge, no subtlety at all."

The author pointedly ignored him and continued writing. The pair walked toward the house, Legend cradling the Haro in her arms, Looker staring intently upward, eyes focused on a bright glint in the sky. Lifting his hand, he waved slowly at the light, then proceeded to walk ahead of Legend, overtaking the drowsy woman easily.

"What was that?" She asked, having observed the movement.

"Orbital Platform _Allelujah_," Looker replied quietly, "best space-surface targeting weapon in development."

Legend immediately lit up, "Four-thousand pound high-density particle generator, absolute location and relativity check, thirty terawatt particle beam—"

He jabbering stopped as Looker gave her a swift strike across the back of her head, "Will you be quiet? I can't hear myself think!"

"But it's awesome!" She cried out reverently. Then she grew serious, a shadow falling across her face, "I wonder how Limit's taking all this…"

Looker looked up, "He'll be fine. He's survived worse." He looked down and made a contemptuous sound, "Those traitors deserve ten thousand painful deaths for their actions."

"Looker," Legend sighed, half-turning toward him, "It's been five years, he's gotten over it."

"He may have, but I never will. My family has a long memory for betrayal, and we _never_ let an ill deed toward our own go unpunished." Looker snarled, "He may not be blood, but he's as close to family as I've got."

Legend smiled sadly, "At least you get along with your family. Me and my sister, well—oh, we're here."

Looker gazed sternly at the ruined lab, noticing Paul rummaging through debris in a corner. In a blur, he had moved across the length of the lab, a distance of about seventy feet, to crouch by his comrade sifting through some burnt fragments of research documents. He picked one up, curiously reading the fraction of the title, "Study of Sp—"

Paul didn't look up as he spoke, "Satoshi called it in."

Looker was surprised, then his face fell slightly, a sad cloud spreading across his demeanor, "Poor kid, having to witness this." He looked over the half-burnt papers once more, "What does _Legion_ have on this?"

"Nothing at all." Paul said simply, "That's the weird thing. There's no indication at all that anything beyond the ordinary was happening. Ever since Cyrus showed up out of the blue five years ago, Team Galactic's been relatively quiet…" He looked down, "Ever since that incident."

Looker sighed, "Still, it doesn't excuse what happened. Blood is blood; death is death." He looked up at the sky through the ruined and sagging frame of the ceiling. As he did so, he murmured to himself, "Helpless, just like back then." As he finished his statement, he whirled around, drawing a pistol from his coat, "Who's there? Come out with your hands up!"

A man of average height with long, spiky brown hair shuffled cautiously out of a hallway half-barred by fallen timber. He wore a white lab coat over a blue shirt and jeans, a pair of spectacles adorning the bridge of his nose. Looker put away his weapon as he identified the man.

"Gary Oak." He stated simply.

Paul looked up at this, "Gary? What are you doing here?"

"It's been a while, Paul. I work here." Gary said slowly, taking in everything.

Paul sighed, as a band on his upper arm lit up. He checked it briefly, and then shut it off, "We're shifting this investigation to Priority Level Two, superseded only by our investigation of Team Galactic."

"Level Two…" Looker murmured, "We haven't had a Level Two in almost five years."

"Things are changing," Legend added, "it's a delayed reaction, but this is the world's response."

Looker nodded, then looked up as he saw a dark-purple bat descend from the sky, carrying a human figure, "Legend, we have company, take care of them."

Legend nodded, "Roger." She dashed off toward the man who had just landed, Haro rolling after her.

Brock—for who else could it be?—saluted as she approached, "International Police, ma'am?"

Legend eyed him coolly, "Yes, what of it?"

"May I ask for a status update?" Brock asked stiffly, "Professor Oak was a good friend of mine."

Legend smiled coyly, "Well, I could give you an update, but I'd need orders from my superiors."

"Please do." Brock replied.

Legend nodded, then pulled out an earpiece, hooking it to her ear and tapping it twice, "Contact Sumeragi Fei Koya, Priority Communications Access to Agent 12494, Codename: Corellia Legend." She paused as the line was picked up, "Sir, I have Brock Harrison asking for an update on the Beta incident; permission to give partial or full report?

"Roger that, sir." She hung up, then smirked at Brock, "Well, I guess you get your wish. Just be careful what you wish for…"

0000000000

_International Police Transport Carrier _Aristotéles_, Over Hoenn, 5:04 PM_

Sumeragi Fei Koya, head of Divison 3 of the International Police, stood at the helm of the Police's heli-carrier, the _Aristotéles_. Being the Head of Special Operations was a demanding job, but being unmarried with no children helped to ease the workload. Koya scowled at the hologram that displayed the world, identifying each blue dot. Every one of those blue dots represented an Agent of his, a person whose life he held in his hands.

"Magnify Research Area 1." He muttered, wringing his hands.

The computer did as ordered, increasing visual of the area in which the "Beta incident" had taken place. He studied it carefully, each blue dot was now accompanied by a number. Though he could look it up in Legion's databanks, he didn't need to for him to know which number belonged to which agent. He knew each of his Agents personally, and trusted each with his life. Before he could dwell on the incident any further, a video link appeared in midair, courtesy of the 3-D hologram.

He frowned at the number displayed before speaking, "Accept communications." The call was accepted, "This is a bad time, Charles. Professor Samuel Oak was just kidnapped, and his lab bombed…"

Koya trailed off as he saw the face on the screen. Charles Goodshow sat before the camera, but his manner was odd. His shirt was ruffled, and his mustache and beard quivered in barely-contained fury. Few people, Koya knew, could anger Charles this much. Something drastic must have changed.

"You're agitated." Koya said, his hands manipulating the hologram with expert efficiency, "What's our status?"

"It's an outrage, that's what it is!" Charles barked, causing Koya to flinch; he'd never seen Charles this angry before, "Some young, idealistic _politician_ caught word of Limit's existence; he's trying to declassify his information!"

"What?" Koya hissed, "Agent Limit is one of our most outstanding Agents, and he likes his privacy. If people knew what he could do, he'd be flooded, especially with those good looks of his." He sighed, leaning back, "I could always 'take care' of the problem."

Charles growled, "No, the incident's already attracted too much publicity to this… this whelp! A death at this point would look suspicious."

Koya snarled, "_Politicians_," he spat the word like a hex, "Think they always know best."

Charles nodded in agreement, "We'll have to play this carefully. Now, about those suspicions you were having…"

"Already taken care of," Koya stated, "the second system should be booted up by the time it's necessary."

"Good, send word to Limit; we may be transferring him to the surface, it wouldn't look good if the politicians thought we were sequestering him up there."

"I've heard those words before…" Koya muttered, "_Legion_, give me the probabilities for the next phase." Long lines of text began scrolling across the screen as Koya's eyes flashed, blue transmuting to silver as the code flashed by, too fast for ordinary humans to register, "I see, then your prediction is the same as mine." He placed a hand on the computer, patting it fondly before moving to a window, "Five years since _Tieria_ was launched, now this." He scowled, "We'll need to be ready, especially if _Legion_ is right about that child…"

0000000000

_Pallet Town, Kanto, 5:04 PM_

"Looker, I think I killed him." Legend called as she walked back in, trailed by a bouncing Haro.

The veteran looked up, "Killed who?"

"Brock Harrison."

"Oh, I'm fine with that." Looker said, turning the page of a magazine he was reading, "Why are you back here?"

"I'm here because there's a group of pushy, irritating women outside who are demanding answers to questions that I can't answer." Legend snapped, sitting by Paul who was doing most of the work.

Paul sighed, having documented the last of the charred documents, "If you can handle that, Looker, sadly being diverted from your incredibly important issue of _Knife-Lovers Monthly_, I still need to sort through what's left of the computer and salvage what I can. Of course, if Limit were here—"

"Limit has more important things to do, Paul." Looker said, "I suppose I can forgo your codename, since everyone and his uncle knows you."

"That's not true!" Paul burst out, having sent Gary away with the police.

"Is so…" Looker muttered as he walked out of the lab, crossing the grassy field to the obscenely long crime-scene perimeter tape as Haro bounced along behind him. As he ducked under the yellow barrier, he froze, gazing intently at the four people gathered there.

Brock Harrison was still waiting, but he was accompanied by three women. The first had hair the color of the rising sun, a fierce expression on her face, cradling a Togetic against her chest. Her clothing fit her loosely, conforming to her less-than-feminine personality. Beside her stood a brunette, her hair falling in two long sweeps on either side of her head, restrained by a verdant cloth, a green-and-white outfit familiar from newspaper across the four regions. Before both of them was a shorter girl with dark blue hair, held up by two yellow clips and contained by a white hat, a blue penguin-like Pokémon at her heels. A low growl rose in Looker's throat as he identified the four from photographs of another life.

"Jeez, it's like they're begging _Dios_ to give me an excuse to end them. I don't even _mind_ killing these sons-a'-bitches."

"Kill the bitches! Kill the bitches!" Haro intoned, hopping up and down as he fluttered the two flaps on his upper hemisphere.

"Well said, Haro. Well said…"

Unfortunately, the orange machine's antics had drawn the attention of the group of trainers, one of them (he didn't know which) calling out, "Hey, over here!"

Looker sneered as he drew near, "What do _you_ want?" He asked, his hand instinctively sliding to his belt, where a long knife and a semi-automatic pistol awaited anyone foolish enough to challenge them.

Dawn scowled at this, Piplup mimicking her, "That was rude! We want to know what's happened."

"Yeah!" May snapped, "And drop the attitude." She hesitated as she finished, the drawling accent of the Agent's words falling on ears long familiar with their inflection.

Looker eyed them coldly, steely-blue eyes like a piercing blade, "I don't see why that's any of _your_ concern, not after what you did to Ash."

In the silence following, one could hear a feather drop.

"YOU'VE SEEN ASH?"

"WHERE?"

"WHEN?"

Questions like these bombarded Looker until he held up a hand to stem the tide, prompting a hopeful silence. He then quashed this hope beautifully as he glared icily at them, "I don't see how it's any of your business, Dawn Berlitz, May Maple, and Misty Seablue." He said, voice like a slicing shard of glass, "Especially if it's you."

"What's with you?" Misty sneered, "We've only just arrived and you're acting like a big jerk! What's your name, anyway?"

"My _codename_ is Salacastern Looker," He smirked, "the man behind whom even a lightning bolt crosses the finish line."

"You're saying that you're faster than lightning?" Brock asked, curious.

"Not saying, he is." Answered another voice.

Looker turned, smirking, "Have you finished then, Paul?"

"P-Paul?" Dawn squeaked, then regained control of herself, "What are you doing here? Do you know this guy?"

"I'm investigating," Paul replied smoothly, his voice dispassionate as Legend ran from the building to join the group, "Do you still have that weak Pachirisu of yours?"

"Pachirisu is not weak!" Dawn yelled.

"You should calm down, Dawn," May advised, "This jerk isn't worth your time."

"Perhaps you could prove it in a battle," Looker smirked.

Dawn turned her nose up, "I think I'll take my friend's advice. You aren't worth my time."

"You tell him, Dawn," Misty said amusedly.

They were about to walk off, but froze in their tracks as they heard a low, taunting voice, "_Contests suck…_"

"OH, THAT IS IT!" Dawn roared, a Pokéball summoned to her hand in rage, "I'll battle you here and now!"

"With pleasure," Looker replied snidely, "How shall we do this?"

Dawn growled, "We'll do it here and now."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," At their quizzical stares, Looker elaborated, smiling, "Our battle may contaminate the crime scene."

Needless to say, several people fell over in exasperation at this. When all was said, but not yet done, the two challengers stood on a grassy field a few miles away from the site. Looker smirked confidently as Dawn fumed. Misty and May stood on Dawn's side, Piplup with them, cheering, while Legend, Paul, and Haro, who has been following Legend since the opening of this chapter, made bets on how long it would take for Dawn to lose.

"This match will be between the two challengers, Dawn Berlitz and Salacastern Looker. Each trainer may use three Pokémon," Brock, who was acting as referee, announced.

"Pachirisu, spotlight!" Dawn cried, sending out the small rodent.

"Trying to prove something?" Looker taunted, "Zee, fight for me!"

He threw his Pokéball gracefully, in a manner that was reminiscent of another that Dawn, May, and Brock had once seen, and released his Pokémon. It was navy blue, its body elongated, with separate parts of it red, its eyes a spiral of information. The Virtual Pokémon, Porygon-Z.

"Zee!" It chattered, streams of data seeming to coalesce in its eyes.

"Pachirisu, Discharge!" Dawn ordered, starting right off the bat with a powerful attack.

Looker didn't move, didn't speak, didn't react in the slightest to Dawn's order. He watched as Pachirisu charged its attack. May could have sworn she was seeing things, but she thought she saw his eyes flash from steel blue to dull silver. After a quick rub of her own, she dismissed it, but Porygon-Z was already moving. It whizzed past Pachirisu, clipping it across the shoulder with its wing, and zooming back to its original position. Pachirisu spun in a small circle, confused as to where the attack had come from. Dawn looked in shock.

"You didn't give any orders!" She stated.

Looker smirked, "Just because I don't speak doesn't mean I don't give orders."

Across the field, Porygon-Z shuddered, marshalling up a glowing triangle which it then sent spinning into Pachirisu, damaging the Ele-Squirrel Pokémon with three different elements simultaneously. On the sidelines, bets were being made and remade. Money changed hands. Porygon-Z moved again, a blur as its eyes glowed bright blue, lifting and throwing Pachirisu without touching it. Pachirisu was now struggling to get up.

"Come on, Pachirisu!" Dawn cheered, "Use Spark."

Pachirisu nodded, glowing yellow, then charged at Porygon-Z. Looker smirked, and Porygon-Z's eyes seemed to whirl smugly. It raised its wings, coalescing a brilliant green orb between them, and sent it flying at point-blank range. Pachirisu squealed as the blast struck it, sending it tumbling backward to faint at its trainer's feet.

"Zap Cannon…" Murmured Paul.

"Pachirisu is unable to battle! The winner of this round is Looker!" Brock declared, raising his arm.

"Return Pachirisu!" Dawn said, recalling her electric-type. She growled angrily, "Mamoswine, I choose you!"

"That's enough, Zee, I need you ready for combat." Looker said, returning the Virtual Pokémon as he took out another Pokéball, "_Alle armi_, Armaldo![1]"

"He's choosing a Pokémon with a Type disadvantage?" Brock murmured.

"Mamoswine, start out with Ancientpower!" Dawn ordered.

"Swine!"

The Twin Tusk Pokémon roared as it launched the glowing white orb. Armaldo regarded the attack with an expression resembling boredom, then simply turned and let the attack sail past it as it dissipated into nothingness. Armaldo rushed forward, bellowing ferociously as it slashed at Mamoswine with glowing arms crossed, knocking back the Ice-type and toppling it over for good measure.

"That's X-Scissor!" May gasped, "And so powerful, too."

"Don't let that stop you, Mamoswine, use Take Down!" Dawn said.

Mamoswine charged, a veil of white light surrounding it. Armaldo and Looker smirked in tandem as the Plate Pokémon raised its left claw, holding Mamoswine back with the strength of one arm alone.

"Push back, Mamoswine!" Dawn ordered.

"Armaldo, be a good boy and…" Looker murmured, sweeping his arm in a diagonal slash, eyes flashing gray as he trailed off.

Armaldo drew back its right arm and extended its claw to its full length, a cloak of blue energy seeming to gather around it, then crushed Mamoswine beneath the force of a powerful downward blow, sending shockwaves pulsing across the field.

"That's Superpower!" Brock cried out, bracing himself against the force of the blow as Looker stood, seemingly unperturbed.

Armaldo whirled, slamming a glowing blue tail into Mamoswine's side, dashing away before it could retaliate, its speed impressive for one of its species. Its outline blurred as it marshaled up a ring of floating stones, hurling them at Mamoswine. The Ice-type roared in pain as Stone Edge struck it, charging toward Armaldo angrily. The Bug-type smirked cockily, extending its left arm and pushing back as Mamoswine rammed into it.

"Push harder, Mamoswine! And watch out for that Aqua Tail!" Dawn cried.

Looker's eye flashed silver once more, and Armaldo brought its right claw back. Mamoswine tried to pull back, believing that another Superpower was incoming, but Armaldo held the Twin Tusk Pokémon in place by hooking one arm around the inside of one tusk. It stretched back its right arm, opening its claw. The scissor-like appendage glowed white as the plate Pokémon lashed out, severing the tusk it held captive and sending Mamoswine hurtling back.

"He used Crush Claw to sever Mamoswine's tusk?" Brock mused, "But that'll…"

His sentence was struck down as Mamoswine roared in anger, seeing its ivory tusk fall to the ground, separated from its master. It charged Armaldo with no regard for life or limb. Armaldo lurched to the side, slashing at Mamoswine again with X-Scissor. It dodged a Take Down, attacking again with Aqua Tail. It dodged another Ancientpower, smashing Mamoswine in the side with Superpower before rushing away again, its form a grey blur.

"Use Earthquake, Mamoswine!" Dawn cried.

"Finish it." Looker murmured, eyes gleaming silver, moving his hand in a gentle parabola, "Flash Cannon Strike."

Armaldo roared, opening its claws again as it charged two orbs of glowing silver and white. Mamoswine shakily stood, preparing to fire its attack. It raised its leg, ready to slam it down, when Armaldo's claws snapped shut, still glowing silver and white.

"What?" Dawn cried in shock, stunned at the technique, "What is that?"

Her answer was not long in waiting. Armaldo charged forward, bashing Mamoswine across the head, then continuing to beat away at the Ice-type Pokemon. The weakened Twin Tusk Pokémon was unable to withstand the assault and fell to the ground, incapacitated.

"Mamoswine is unable to battle!" Brock called out, "Looker takes this round!"

"Down to the last, eh?" Looker smirked, "I expected more. Ash spoke quite highly of you," Turning to his Bug-Type Pokémon, he spoke again, "Armaldo, you can go sit next to Legend if you like."

The Bug-Type lumbered over to the auburn haired woman, seating itself on the ground beside her. Its tongue flopped out and flicked up to its eye before retracting again, leaving it to sit there with a simplistic look of contentment.

Dawn growled in anger, "Piplup, take the stage! Show this guy not to mess with us!"

The Water-type charged out from the sidelines, proudly taking a stance at the center of the field. Dawn was confident in her Piplup's ability to prevail, but when she looked up, Looker was smirking darkly as he turned to his comrades.

"What do you think, guys?" He asked, "Should I use _that_ Pokémon?"

Paul remained as expressionless as ever, "I would support that decision."

Legend cackled loudly, "I'd _love_ to see what happens when you go at eighteen percent!"

"Eighteen percent?" Dawn wondered aloud.

Looker ignored her, drawing his arm back and shrugging his shoulders. He smirked as he flung his arm up, not releasing a Pokéball, but hurling a yellow sphere high into the air. At the apex of its aerial journey, it unfurled, whipping a long, lightning-bolt tail in a dazzling arc, two black-tipped ears flicking up in surprise as red cheeks sparked in anger at being woken up.

"Pika!" Pikachu growled.

"Pikachu," Looker called, "If you win this for me, I'll pay you triple your wages in ketchup!"

At this the Pikachu perked up, nodding assent to Looker's orders. Brock, seeing no reason to waylay the battle any further, commenced it.

"Piplup, go on, use Bubblebeam!" Dawn ordered.

"Pikachu," Looker smirked, raising an arm to his side, like a master performer, "Show this woman why I'm known as _il Diavolo da Venezia_.[2]"

Pikachu sparked with electricity as he leaped out of the way of Piplup's attack. He lunged forward, rolling under a Drill Peck before slapping Piplup away with an Iron Tail. Looker's eyes had no trace of blue left, blazing silver as he relayed instructions to Pikachu mentally. But May was confused by his pattern of attack.

"I don't get it," She muttered, "Why doesn't he just use a long range attack like Thunderbolt?"

"That's Looker for you," Legend laughed, "He likes to set himself little challenges like these. What was the one for this battle again?" She asked, looking to Paul.

Paul closed his eyes in boredom, "I believe he said he would only use physical attacks."

"Pika!" Pikachu cried in affirmative, effortlessly dodging a Bubblebeam and beating Piplup across the face with another Iron Tail.

Dawn ground her teeth against each other, "Piplup, let's show 'em who's boss! Use Hydro Pump!"

"_Tutta la vostra base è appartiene a noi!_[3]" Looker murmured calmly, eyes a radiant grey, "First Sonata, Elegy of Sin."

Pikachu nodded, tail glowing black as he moved like a shade, never in one place long enough to be seen. Piplup whirled in place, trying to place Pikachu's location as Looker smirked, raising his hand.

"Now," He murmured.

The black streak shot by Piplup, Pikachu crashing his tail against the Water-type's side. slashing past again and again. Completing a six-sweep strike, the Electric-type turned, cheeks flickering with electricity.

"Finish it." Looker said, glancing at his watch, "First Concerto, the Philosopher."

Pikachu nodded, hurling itself in the air and flipping end over end as it cloaked itself in a veil of yellow power.

Looker cried out, speaking loudly for the first time, "And with that," He curled his fingers, digits splayed like a lotus as he brought his hand before him, "I call checkmate!"

Pikachu rammed Piplup with the full force of its Volt Tackle, sending billows of dust into the air.

Looker smirked as the dust settled, seeing Pikachu sitting on a fainted Piplup's head, raising its tiny fingers in a 'V.' He stretched out his arms as the rodent bounded toward him, clambering up his leg to secure its post on his shoulder, fixing a sadistic glare on the rest as if to say _'Obey the man, or eat voltage!'_

"And now, if you don't mind, Corellia," Looker said, yawning, "I'm going to nap."

He toppled over, Armaldo lifting him in its claws as the Agent fell dead asleep, snoring loudly against the Bug-type's hard-plated armor. Tongue hanging from its mouth, it began walking off toward the now-setting sun as Pikachu darted up to its shoulder.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Legend snapped after it, causing it to pause, "Delia's is _that-a-way_…" She pointed toward the east, opposite Armaldo's path.

The Armor Pokémon looked in the direction indicated, then again toward the sun, finally trundling off toward Delia Ketchum's house down the lane. Legend followed, Haro cradled in her arms, with Paul whipping out his earpiece to make a call.

"Delia? Yeah, it's me. Looker went and fell asleep, so Armaldo and Legend are bringing him over… No, nothing serious, he just felt like napping… Well, alright, tell Satoshi I'll be there in a few." Paul hung up and began to leave, but was stopped as Misty interposed herself in his path, "Can I help you?"

"You can start by telling us where Ash is," She growled, Dawn moving to her side.

Paul gazed at her for a while, then flicked his hair contemptuously, "It's not my story to tell," He countered, walking forward, "Now if you wouldn't mind getting out of my way…"

"Not until you tell us where Ash is!" Dawn snapped.

Paul scoffed with disdain, _"Get out of my way,"_ He ordered, eyes flashing.

Misty and Dawn froze, almost pushed back by the force of the command, they fought against the order with everything they had, but were forced to accede, "Sure, no problem."

Paul smirked, pushing past them, "You resisted better than most; still, you're not strong enough to overwhelm _my_ acceleration."

Brock and May were amazed.

"How did you do that?" May asked, Brock standing open-mouthed.

"Oh, you saw," Paul groaned in exasperation, turning around, _"Forget any irregularities in what just transpired."_

This time, it affected all of them, Brock and May slipped into a daze as Paul ambled toward Delia Ketchum's house, snapping out of it only once he was gone from their sight.

When he finally arrived at Delia's house, Number 7-A, on the Rue de Plumet, Paul pushed open the gate, walking through Delia's well kept garden. He paused once, lifting a morning glory flower to eye level, admiring the way the sun's failing light caught the curved edges of the blossom.

"You know, morning glories were used to represent those who love in vain," A teasing voice came from the doorway.

Paul smiled wistfully, "A happy coincidence, then," He murmured, turning to the entryway, "It's good to see you, Delia."

"Come here, Paul," She said, smiling, pulling him into an embrace, "It seems like every time you go off on another mission, you grow taller."

"I'm the same as last time, _Mom_," Paul rolled his eyes, "How's Satoshi?"

"He's a bit shaken," Delia muttered, growing somber, closing her eyes and leaning against her adopted son, "I'm not sure how he'll cope."

"He's strong, like his dad," Paul murmured, hugging the woman who was like a mother to him, "He'll be fine."

Walking into the house, Paul saw Armaldo already sitting on the floor, tongue hanging limply from his mouth as Looker snoozed on the couch. Legend sat at the table, eight glasses of water arrayed around her, each filled with different amounts as she tapped her fork against them, playing a single-octave rendition of "Octopus's Garden." Satoshi, raven-haired and wide-eyed, sat across from her, mystified.

At the sound of the closing door, he whipped around, crying out delightedly, "Uncle Paul!"

Paul let out a grunt as the child threw his full weight against him, "Easy there, kiddo," He chided, "How've you been?"

The boy grew quiet, "I… I feel kind of sad…"

"That's perfectly normal," Paul said, patting Satoshi's head.

"Why would somebody do that to Grandpa Samuel?" He asked, face upturned.

"Satoshi, Samuel does work that advances our understanding of Pokémon, right?" At the boy's nod, Paul continued, "There are people out there who would use his work for their own purposes, like how…" He trailed off, unsure how to finish, "You know what I mean."

"Yeah," The boy blinked, brown eyes holding Paul's gaze for a long moment before speaking again, "So, will you be here long?"

"I think so," Paul grinned, "We can have all the fun you like while we're waiting for orders."

Paul smiled as he let Satoshi drag himself and Legend outside to the large field behind the house. So long as he had something to protect, he would fight.

0000000000

_Satellite Module _Virtue_, Orbital Satellite Station _Tieria_, 6:47 PM Kanto Western Time_

"I'm to return to the surface?" Limit asked, "Are you sure? You know that my abilities are best used up here."

"Yeah," Koya said, appearing tired, "Some politician found out about you."

"And he wants my info declassified?"

""Yep," Koya replied, taking a swig from a bottle of 1885 Scotch malt whiskey, "So, because we can't make it look as though we're sequestering you up there, we have to bring you down."

"Couldn't you ask Ptolemaios to make him forget?"

"We could, but it'll take time to get him there," Koya said, "For now, we bring you down. That's an order."

"Roger that," Limit said, smiling for the first time that day, "So, how's the in-flight movie?"

"My favorite," Koya replied curtly, downing a sandwich and two more gulps of whiskey.

"_Mamma Mia!_ again?"

Koya didn't even look up as he replied, "Yep."

"Sir, with all due respect, you _really_ need to get laid."

"True," Koya said, "But I don't have the time. Now get down here so you can clear my schedule up and drag me to the nearest brothel."

"Yes, sir," Limit replied, ending the connection.

Reaching out, Limit contacted the commander of the station, "Commander, I'm afraid that my imminent arrival on the surface is necessary. Could you please have a vessel prepped for me by 0400 hours, tomorrow?"

"Yes, Agent Limit," the commander replied.

Limit closed his eyes, immersing himself in the flow of information. If he could find him, he would do it. His mind's eye roamed across the landscape of the world's information network, seeking the one who would dare try to reveal this agency's secrets.

_'Feeling a little vengeful, are we?'_ His darker half asked, _'Why don't we get Looker to take care of this. He'd handle the problem _real_ quick, wouldn't he?'_

"That's for Koya to decide," Limit replied, "Besides, even though he can—"

_'Oh, just do it!'_ The other half snapped, _'Else, just hand your body over to me. I'll make short work of this problem.'_

Knowing the intentions of his other half, Limit sighed, "Very well," He replied, losing the wrapped bandages, "Looker it is."

_'Spoilsport.'_

0000000000

_Pallet Town, Kanto, 7:11 PM_

Looker's eyes snapped open, burning with a grey light, "Orders from Legion? … That's fine, I'll see to this."

Legend turned from her position on the couch beside him, "Limit?"

"Yeah," Looker grunted, propelling himself from the sofa to the door, tugging on his boots, "_Nessun_ _problema_, just something I need to take care of.[4]"

"How far?" Legend asked as Paul walked in from the backyard, carrying Satoshi on his shoulders.

"Just over the plateau," looker replied, "Don't look for me before sunrise," Turning to his left, where he found Armaldo curled up on the porch "Rise, _scalpellino_![5] There's work to be done! Make haste!" At his call, Armaldo sprang up, dashing to Looker's side. Grinning, the Agent turned, regarding his friends, "God be with you!" He cried, vanishing.

Delia exited the house, watching the horizon with her grandson and his companions, "Looker's gone?"

"Yes," Legend replied, "He'll be back by morning."

"Pity," Delia muttered, "He'll miss dinner. I made baked potatoes."

A cheered chorus arose from the three younger people as the rushed inside the house, each wanting the pick of the batch. Delia smiled as she looked skyward, welcoming to dawning of a new dusk.

They ate dinner slowly, long discussions on previous missions dominating the conversation, Pikachu wolfing down ketchup and showing Pichu the wonders of the tomato-paste heaven. At 7:30, the doorbell rang, cutting short Legend's joke about the three KGB agents who walked into a bar.

"Who could that be?" Delia asked as Paul stood.

Legend closed her eyes, focusing intensely, "Sounds like… Brock Harrison, Misty Seablue, and someone I don't know."

Paul nodded as he moved to the door, turning the knob and pulling it open, "Can I help you?"

Max Maple, who had been leaning against the door, trying to listen, pulled back quickly, "H-hi!"

Paul gave him a long, contemplative look before turning back to Brock, "If it's about Oak, I can't release any more information without authorization by my commander."

"It's not that," Brock began, "It's about Ash."

Paul gave him the same look he gave Max, Legend appearing behind him, proffering him a long, bandage-wrapped object of some sort, which he declined, "What about Ash?"

"We want to know where he is!" Misty snapped in annoyance.

Paul graced her with yet another look, then closed his eyes, "I can't answer that."

"What?" Brock asked, "Why?"

Before Paul could answer, he felt a tug on the leg of his pants. Looking down, he saw Satoshi reaching up toward him. With a smiled, he gripped the young boy around the waist, hauling him up to shoulder level.

"Uncle Paul, who are these people?" The boy asked.

Paul seemed surprised, "They used to know your dad. You don't know them?"

"Uh-uh," Satoshi shook his head, "When you're done talking, can we play _Assassin's Creed_?"

"Sure, whatever you want, kid," Paul set Satoshi down, who began gamboling about with his Pichu, and turned to stare in shock at the trio on the doorstep, "Are you saying," He asked, voice unnervingly level, "That you haven't visited the woman who is like a mother to me in almost _five years_?"

Brock took a nervous step back, hands held up in helplessness, "N-now, w-w-wait a m-minute."

"And why should I?" Paul asked, taking a menacing step forward, the other three stepping back.

"Look, Paul," Brock said, "We didn't come to fight. We just want to know where Ash is."

Paul looked at him, considering how he should annihilate them. Then he remembered that his foster mother wouldn't be very happy if he annihilated people on her porch. Then his thoughts turned to the half-eaten baked potato he had left on the dinner table, and how it was getting cold, "I'm not one to hold grudges, but I can't forgive what you did to Ash," He fixed his gaze on Misty, "Therefore, I will not tell you where Ash is."

"What are you talking about?" Max growled out.

"If you want to know, O Omniscient One," Legend replied sardonically, "Ask your sister."

"Satoshi!" Delia called from the kitchen, "Come here, your grandfather's on the line!"

"Grandpa!" Satoshi cried as he raced past Paul, Pichu at his heels.

"Old Man!" Legend yelled out in kind, rushing past Paul.

"Somebody bring me my potato!" Paul commanded.

There was a lot of chatter from the kitchen, and the Veilstone native could see that he'd been summarily ignored.

"Grandpa?" Brock asked, "Delia got married?"

"Remarried," Paul corrected, "In a sense. They weren't married to begin with but they may as well have been."

"That doesn't matter," Misty countered adamantly, "What matters is that we find Ash."

Paul's eyes glinted cruelly, "_Fine_, if you're so insistent," He mocked, "He's up there." He gesture upward, toward the darkening sky.

Max looked up quizzically, before the full force of Paul's statement hit him, "Wait, you don't mean…"

Paul nodded, closing his eyes, "Four years ago, in Orre. Landmine while on assignment from the International Police."

Brock fell to his knees in shock, "I… I wanted him to be my best man…"

Paul looked at him, "I'm afraid that's impossible," He turned away, stepping into the house, "You wanted the truth, and I gave it to you. Now you have to live with it."

He shut the door.

"Lying without lying, Paul?" Legend asked sardonically from the couch, looking up from the game of chess she was losing spectacularly to Satoshi.

"Everything I said was absolutely true, Legend," Paul said loftily, "It isn't my fault that others misunderstand me…"

Legend smirked knowingly, "Well, then shall we let the game play out?"

"Indeed," Paul said, "Now where's that potato?"

0000000000

_Goldenrod City, Johto, 1:00 AM_

Looker stood atop the Global Terminal's spire, clutching the spire's point as he braced himself against the twisted steel with his feet. He hooked on the earpiece, the device's green HUD eyepiece unfolding to cross his right eye.

_"You're going to need Skarmory for this,"_ Limit spoke into his ear, _"You'll utilize a Continuous Descent Approach method to avoid being tracked and arousing suspicion."_

"Understood," Looker murmured. The Continuous Descent Approach referred to a technique normally used by airliners to conserve power and reduce sound. The International Police had adapted it for the same reasons, with a less than honest motive behind it, "Security?"

_"But of course,"_ Limit answered, _"Two rooftop snipers, eighteen ground-level security."_

"_Sí_," Looker muttered, readying Skarmory's Pokéball.

_"One last thing,"_ Limit said, _"You have to make sure not to alert anybody. We don't want anyone to know about this."_

"Roger," Looker tossed the ball into the air underhanded, throwing himself off the Terminal spire at the same time, "A leap of faith," He murmured as he fell, arms spread like a man kneeling before God. Skarmory caught him before he'd fallen fifty feet, cruising downward at an exceedingly gentle slope. A three-degree angle of descent was all that was necessary for the CDA. To pass the fifteen minutes to descend as per the plan, Looker enjoyed a spirited game of _Angry Pidgey's_ on his Agentphone, a phone specifically designed for Agents.

As Skarmory approached Senator Eric Felling's residence, Looker stowed his phone, leaning forward as Skarmory made a swift U-turn, ten feet above the mansion's roof. Looker slipped off her back, rolling as he hit the roof's masonry. One of the snipers had a half-second to turn around before Looker had him by the throat. In a flash, he was across the roof, holding the other by the neck as well. Eyes narrowing, his irises flashed grey before the two soldiers collapsed to the floor.

He paused long enough to ensure that Skarmory was safely away, ready to pick him back up when needed, then entered the mansion via the rooftop stairway. The Agent moved through the darkened hallways silently, dodging errant security systems as he made his way to the senator's room. His dark eyes flashed grey as he pushed open the kitchen doors. Snatching a box of truffles from the pantry, he walked toward the bedroom, familiar with the house's layout due to the knowledge he'd torn from the snipers' minds.

The senator was sitting upright in bed, a corpulent man in a set of baby blue pajamas. A newspaper was propped up against his folded legs, a glass and a bottle of sleeping pills set on the nightstand. With a swift movement, Looker hurled a throwing knife through the thin crack in the door, severing the lamp's cord, shutting off the light.

"Who's there?" Felling shrieked.

"A visitor," Looker said, putting on his best 'menacing' voice, "You've been a bad boy, Eric."

"Who are you?" The senator asked, seeing Looker's dark outline in the door.

"My name is unimportant, what is important is that you see how urgent it is that you cease investigating Agent Vladimir Limit," Looker said.

"You know Limit?" The politician leaned back nervously, "Who are you?"

"A friend of the family," Looker said sarcastically, gripping the man by the neck, "Now, let me be absolutely clear. You are to leave Limit and the International Police as they have been. If you infringe on us again, you'll be meeting me under much less friendly circumstances. Understand?"

The senator nodded weakly, "Okay, I get it," He choked.

"_Bene,_ don't be telling anyone about our little conversation here,[6]" Looker replied, the man slumping unconscious in his bed.

He rushed back the way he came, reaching the roof in mere seconds. Looking up at the blackened sky, Looker raised a hand, tightening his grip on the air as he heard a rushing sound. As he did, a steel talon entered his grip, whisking him away from the roof. He clambered up Skarmory's back, tuning his earpiece again.

"This is Looker," He said, "Orders executed."

0000000000

_Satellite Module _Virtue_, Orbital Satellite Station _Tieria_, 3:28 AM Kanto Western Time_

Limit gripped a transport bar, a conveyor belt-like device that pulled one along the _Tieria's_ corridors in zero-gravity. The commander, a tall, wiry man with a square chin and short hair, joined him, grabbing the bar behind him as they moved toward the hanga where Limit's transport waited.

"Because this was last minute, I was only able to acquire a Starneedle for you, Agent," The commander spoke in a soothing baritone, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Limit grunted, "I would be far worse off without your help," He looked over his shoulder, "Thank you."

They rode the bars to the hangar in silence, floating across the hangar with the momentum provided by the bar. Columns were spaced throughout the bay with crossbeams to make it easier to change directions in anti-gravity. Limit and the commander pulled their way through the three-dimensional space toward a conical craft set with thrusters and wings. As he reached the craft, a space-capable fighter called a Starneedle, with two long tendrils of his bandages floating around him, Limit turned toward the commander.

"The Aura be with you," He intoned, pulling himself into the pilot's seat.

"And also with you, Agent," The commander saluted.

As he belted himself to the Starneedle's seat, Limit closed his eyes, breathing deeply. As he did his visage changed, and he smirked menacingly, putting a hand to his bandages. He opened his eye, the deep brown iris reflecting the earth he saw below, and his gloved hands took hold of the control sticks on either side of his seat. He murmured a prayer in a long dead language as he finished his flight checks.

"Well then," He cackled softly, "Shall we let the game play out, my other self?"

With that, he let out a laugh and pushed the controls forward, propelling himself into space.

**Now that that's over, I have a little mini-poll for all of you:**

**Who is the old man (that is, Satoshi's grandfather)?**

**What is Satoshi's relation to Ash (and if applicable, give possibilities for other relations)?**

**How much Gratuitous Italian should Looker be allowed to use?**

**Why was Koya drinking 1885 Scotch Malt Whiskey while watching **_**Mamma Mia! **_**(the movie)?**

**Who is Limit, and why does he have bandages wrapped around his right eye?**

**And finally, what religion is Haro?**

**Now that we have that out of the way, I have some new (good news.) I'm already at work on the next chapter, but it'll take a while. **_**Of course…**_** my palm (fingers?) could be greased (it's a metaphor for bribery) if I had some reviews telling me what you think. I'll let that sink in.**

**Cortega out!**

**TRANSLATION NOTES:**

**[1]: **_**At arms!**_

**[2]: **_**The Venetian Devil**_** (lit. **_**the Devil of Venice**_**)**

**[3]: **_**All your base are belong to us!**_

**[4]: **_**No problem**_

**[5]: **_**Stonecutter**_

**[6]: **_**Good**_** (lit. **_**Well**_**)**


	3. Angel and Devil

**Welcome back all. For this next chapter, the translation notes, answers to last chapter's quiz, and the next quiz will all be at the end to avoid any spoilers.**

**Chapter Two: Angel and Devil**

_Pallet Town, Kanto, 7:01 AM, April 25, 2011 of the Pokémon International Calendar_

Paul opened his eyes, peeling his face away from an open copy of _Death and You: How to Prepare for Your Inevitable Demise_. He closed the book, inserting a bookmark at his current chapter (Chapter Seventeen, "Death While Eating: How to Not Get Food on Your Cadaver") and pushed himself up from the couch. Legend was upstairs in the guest bedroom. Looker, if he was back, would be in the kitchen, downing raw eggs. Satoshi had school in an hour, so Delia would be up and trying to wake the kid. That left Limit.

Paul groaned as he pushed himself upright, pointing at the coffeemaker and mumbling an order, "_Make. Now,_" The gadget whirred to life and proceeded to manufacture the caffeinated beverage. Paul sat himself down at the kitchen table, where, sure enough, Looker sat, a dozen Grade A eggs sitting before him, half empty, and a cup of coffee on a coaster, along with a potted morning glory, "So, did you fix our _problem_."

"Yes," Looker replied, tapping the potted morning glory's ceramic housing with his finger, "It was easy enough, just some senator trying to expose Limit."

"If it had been me," Paul slumped against the glass surface of the table, "I'd have left him a gibbering wreck."

"I know," Looker nodded, sipping the coffee, "That's why Limit sent me."

Paul nodded, extending an arm as the coffeemaker dinged, opening and pouring a cup perfectly to Paul's taste: not too hot, not to strong, and not too sweet. The cup shuddered once, then flew across the kitchen to Paul's hand. He gripped the ceramic mug with both hands, sipping it cautiously to ensure that Looker hadn't poured cyanide in the creamer again ("Really, Paul, it was just the once!")

"Oh, are you two up?" Delia leaned over the banister, overlooking the living and dining rooms, "Paul would you help get Satoshi up?"

"Sure thing, Mom," Paul cleared his throat a few times, then looked upward, "Hey, Satoshi, if you get up, I'll let you take Torterra to school!"

"Yes!" The small boy's shout came, "I'm coming!"

In minutes, the child was downstairs, teeth brushed, hair washed, and shirt ironed for good measure.

"Four minutes, thirty-five seconds," Looker noted idly, "New record."

"Here you go, kid," Paul said, surrendering Torterra's Pokéball to the young Ketchum.

"Yes!" The boy cried out again, "Babe-tropolis, here I come!"

"They're so cute at that age," Looker smiled, "It reminds me of myself."

Paul made a sound resembling a sarcastic "uh-huh" in the back of his throat.

"Did I tell you, Satoshi?" Looker smiled down at the child.

"What?" The boy cocked his head to the side.

"I passed your grandpa on the way over."

The child's eyes grew wide, "Really?! Where? When'll he be here?"

"It was at the Plateau Borderlands," Looker said, "He'll be here by this afternoon, but he was at a much slower pace than I was."

"Okay, then," Satoshi tapped his palm with his tiny fist, "The first thing we do when I get home is jump Grandpa and take his wallet."

"Right," The three assembled Agent nodded.

"That reminds me," Delia said, polishing a spoon with a napkin, right hand bandaged from the shattered dish the previous day, "I sent Silver over with Miss Harvey last week, so that he could take his Grandpa his birthday present. Is he alright, or did his father take the liberty of spoiling him again?" The matriarch turned, the silverware bending and distorting between her fingers, "I swear, if that old man bought the kids yet _another_ game console, I'll—"

"Easy there, Delia," Looker smiled as he leaned forward, stroking the dewy flower on the table."The old man might not be the sharpest knife in my jacket, but he knows well enough not to incur the wrath of a woman."

"As well he should," Delia huffed, "If you're training today, Paul, don't forget to take Morningedge with you. Koya had it sent over from HQ."

"A PSP this time?" Satoshi asked in a hushed voice.

"Yep," Looker whispered in kind, "Just make sure your Grandma doesn't see it. I'll bring it up next week and tell her I got it for you, you know she loves me."

Looker gave his most charming smile (which, admittedly, was pretty charming), while Satoshi looked thoroughly unconvinced (which, admittedly, is pretty thorough.)

"Uh-huh," Satoshi replied, "So, what'll you guys do while I'm gone?"

Looker and Paul grinned savagely, "Training."

0000000000

_8:46 AM_

Paul and Looker had managed to find a sparring ground far enough away from Delia's house that the craters wouldn't be visible (to the casual observer.) Unfortunately for them, that same place was close enough to where Brock and Gary where staying such that they could hear the explosions. Max and May were next on the call list, with Misty not far behind.

"Oh, _Deus ex_," Looker groaned as he saw the company of people crest the hilly depression they had decided was tranquil enough to not offend them, "Here come our good friends."

"I think that was sarcasm," Legend said from the sidelines as she scoured a dismantled array of metal pieces with a cleaning solvent, Haro sitting in her lap.

"Or maybe you're just put off by the fact that you can't beat me, Looker," Paul taunted, now in full combat mode, "After all, two Elemental-types are perfectly capable of razing each other without hesitation. Yet we haven't."

"Then let's remedy that, Paul!" Looker cried, rushing the Sinnoh native yet again, a hooked blade extending from under each forearm.

"As you like." Paul replied as he gripped his immense sword, Morningedge.

The blade was almost as tall and wide as a man. It was long and straight, up until the last foot, where the blade sloped back to meet the spine at the sword's tip. The hilt was as wide as a man's arm, and nearly as long. Standing on the crossguard with the blade pushed into the tamped earth, Paul flipped in the air, landing just behind the huge weapon. Pulling the sword from the earth, Paul dashed forward, meeting Looker's over-under stabs with the flat of the blade.

"Really, Looker?" Paul said sarcastically, "Such a predictable attack?"

"Predict this, _stronzo![1]_" Looker grunted, gaining purchase on the blade's spine with the hookblade in his right hand.

He yanked the blade downward, planting the sword into the dusty earth before stabbing at Paul with his other weapon. Left with no choice but to abandon his main weapon, Paul leaped backward, a blade extending over each of his hands, though different in design from Looker's. The blade split down the middle, bolts of electricity crackling down its length as Paul pointed his arm at Looker.

"Dammit!" Looker cried out, ripping Paul's sword free from the dirt.

He was just in time as Paul's arm recoiled from the blast. Looker was shoved back violently, an energy bolt from Paul's rail-gun-type blade ricocheting off Morningedge. The heavy sword seemed no worse for the wear, but the bolt careened off into a hillside, the force of the projectile causing it to explode, leaving a smoldering crater. Paul fired again, elbow jerking and wrist recoiling sharply at the force of the blast. Looker moved so fast, he was a blur, a long groove in the dirt signifying where he'd dragged Morningedge's point as he dashed. Paul was on his guard now. Looker, with his inhuman like speed, had disappeared. The next attack could come from anywhere.

He almost didn't make it. Morningedge's point stabbed downward from the air, just missing severing Paul in two. The Veilstone native dove out of the blade's way, rolling into a ready stance with his railblades aimed at Looker, who stood atop the immense blade's crossguard.

"I'm disappointed, Paul," It was now Looker's turn to taunt, "With all that training with Limit, I'd have thought you could beat me now," Looker's grin turned dangerous, "But you know what they say…" Looker's outline wavered, as did that over the sword, before they both vanished, "You can't win if you're not fast enough."

Paul whirled, barely catching Morningedge's blade with his own. With his other hand, he gripped the spine of the blade, twisting it around and sending Looker flying. While Looker may have been faster by several magnitudes, Paul was stronger, also by several magnitudes. Looker carved a long furrow into the ground as he ground himself to a halt, pulling himself up from a crouch.

"You two _are_ aware that you have an audience," Legend piped up, tossing Haro up into the air and catching him as he descended, "Right?" She lounged lazily on a beach chair dragged from Delia's garage.

Looker turned, eyeing the gathered crowd of Ash's old companions, "Perhaps they need a lesson in what I can do, eh, Paul?"

"Perhaps," Paul replied simply, rewrapping Morningedge in its sheath of bandages, as a conventional sheath would be too difficult to draw from. A complex cocoon of cloth wrapped the huge blade, but despite this, the tug of a single strand would undo the wrapping along the blade's sharpened edge, allowing it to be freed quickly in any situation. Slinging the great weapon over his back, Paul looked to Legend, "You coming?"

"No," Legend laced her fingers, laying back with Haro beside her, "I think I'll wait for a bit."

Looker shrugged beside Paul, retracting his twin hookblades into his sleeves, "Very well. Just don't be too irritated if they start pestering you,_ bella mía_. _Capito_?[2]"

"_Capito_," Legend yawned back.

She remained lying down as Looker gripped Paul's shoulder, the two of them vanishing in a flurry of dust, in a manner that Looker would describe as "Like a Boss." She would have remained that way, basking in the morning sun had a shadow not loomed over her.

"Can I help you?" Legend asked, opening her eyes.

"Yeah," May glared down at her, though her eyes were red (had she been crying?), "You can tell us what happened to Ash."

Legend yawned, turning over and away from the assembly, "Paul told you: Ash Ketchum is dead."

The finality she spoke with stung the group like a whip, but May pushed through the hurt, "We still don't know what exactly happened. What was Ash doing in Orre? What landmine was Paul talking about? How—"

"I don't see how it's any of your business," Legend snapped as she turned to face May, "Seeing what you did to him."

"That's another thing," Dawn called, moving forward with a protective arm before May, "What are you talking about 'what May did to Ash?' The way I heard—"

"And that's just the thing," Legend abandoned the pretense of napping, "What you heard is from just one perspective. I heard things differently. That is the difference between us, Miss Berlitz. You can't—" Whatever Legend was about to say was lost as a jarred expression crossed her face, and she put a hand to her forehead, "Are you sure? A day?!" She shook her head, speaking to no one in particular, "As Looker would say, _merdé![3]_" She nodded, "Then I'll ask Sumeragi for orders… No, I'll be fine even then. Don't lose your bones, right… Very well," She seemed dazed for a moment, then a cloud seemed to lift from her thoughts, and she looked back at Dawn, "You can't judge the veracity of others by your own thoughts. That's just pure bigotry."

Dawn was stunned by the speech, and took a step back. Misty, however, wasn't going to be put off by any speech short of Bill Pullman's from _Independence Day_.

The volatile redhead seized Legend by the shirt and pulled her upright, shouting, "WHAT HAPPENED TO ASH?!"

If Legend was going to respond, it was pointless once Haro collided with Misty's face, shouting, "Allahu Ackbar! Allahu Ackbar!" He launched himself into the girl's knees, forcing her back two steps, then fluttered over to Legend where he rocked against her ankle and purred, encouraged by her petting.

"What the hell is that?!" Dawn snapped, glaring at the orange sphere in irritation.

"This is Haro, my Islamic targeting robot," Legend said casually.

"Islamic… Targeting… Robot…" Dawn ground out the words in disbelief.

"Yes, child," Legend smiled as though she were speaking to a child, "He belonged to my father, and he's a hell of a good shot, even without my—admittedly—brilliant abilities," She placed a hand on her chest with obviously exaggerated vanity, "With that in mind, I'd advise you to go on your way."

"What are you even doing here?" Dawn asked, "Looker and Paul already went off to Delia's…"

Legend smiled slightly as she turned, observing the Coordinator through the curtain of her wavy brown hair, "I'm waiting for somebody here."

"Who?" Brock asked out of curiosity.

"A friend," Legend replied simply, obviously unwilling to divulge more information. She stooped, collecting the metal pieces she'd been working on, and lifting them up in an oil-soaked rag.

"Why are you messing around with that pile of scrap? Seems kind of pointless," Max pushed his glasses up snobbishly.

Legend's eyes flashed dangerously, "A weapon is only as good as the care its wielder gives it," She warned angrily, hands moving quickly as she fitted together the metal shards, fingers blurring until the pieces formed a cohesive whole, "Pointless this, _stronzo_." She sneered, brandishing her rifle at him.

Max gaped in awe at the deadly weapon, now pointed directly at his face, shrinking back slightly at Legend's fierce expression.

Deciding that the situation had deteriorated enough, May interposed herself between her brother and the muzzle of Legend's rifle, "That's enough," She said, just as fiercely as the Agent, "We didn't come to fight. We came to learn what happened to Ash."

Legend observed her coolly, then smirked, "Tell you what: you battle me, one-on-one, and if you win, I'll tell you what happened to Ash."

May growled angrily, but knew it was the best deal she would get, "Fine."

"There's a girl," Legend's smirk deepened, "Right then, who'll referee the battle?"

"I'll do it," Brock said, as Legend put a considerable distance between herself and her opponent. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. "It's way too early for this," He mumbled, "Legend and May, go."

"Take the stage, Blaziken!" May cried, releasing her starter.

"Lockon, targeted and ready to fire!" Legend cried, hurling her own Pokéball high into the air.

The sphere opened, its contents of white energy coalescing as they hit the ground, lengthening to form a multitude of tails, a slender neck, and a ferocious gaze. The Fox Pokémon, Ninetails, roared in anticipation for battle.

"A Ninetails!" Dawn exclaimed, "And so pretty, too!"

And indeed, Legend's Ninetails, who she had called Lockon, was well-groomed, thoroughly taken care of, and in all words, beautiful.

"You seem to have taken care of her, huh?" Misty smiled at the Fire-type Pokémon.

"Actually, he's male."

There was a stunned silence.

"Wait," Dawn ground out through her shock, "Seriously?"

"Yeah, wanna see?" Legend asked lewdly, pointing vaguely downward.

"No!"

"Moving on," Brock groaned. It was _way_ too early in the morning for this, "Go."

"Blaziken, start this off with Blaze Kick!" May cried.

Legend smirked, "Lockon, do your thing," She leaned back lazily on Haro.

May was confused at first, thinking this was some code for an attack. Instead, however, Lockon slid closed one eyelid in a lazy wink, while giving a devilish smile. The effect was instantaneous. Blaziken slowed to a halt, the female staring amorously at the other Fire-Type.

"Was that Attract?" Brock asked, "But then, why is Piplup affected?"

Dawn looked down, and saw that, indeed, the Penguin Pokémon was gazing at the Ninetails with adoration, "Piplup, what's gotten into you?"

"It's because of Lockon's Attract," Legend provided, "Exactly like his namesake—who's a complete, sexy badass—he attracts both women _and_ men of any species."

"Mmm…" Misty made a vague sound of agreement, loosening the collar of her shirt.

"Now," Legend commanded, "Inferno!"

"Blaziken, you have to dodge!" May ordered.

Blaziken, with an immense wrench of willpower, pulled herself back and leaped. However, the torrent of blue flames made a direct hit, knocking the Blaze Pokémon from the air.

"What happened?" Dawn asked, "That attack should have missed!"

Legend's eyes seemed to flash from their normal blue-green to a violently glowing silver, "I never miss! Energy Ball!"

Lockon raised his head, marshalling and hurling a vibrant green orb. Again, the still-infatuated Blaziken attempted to dodge, and again the attack hit spot-on.

"Overheat, Blaziken!" May ordered, sweeping and pointing dramatically.

"Inferno Counter Shield," Legend smiled slightly.

Lockon the Ninetails spun, a flood of blue flame surrounding him as Blaziken's Overheat made contact. The Blaze Pokémon's red flames, powerful as they were, were swept up into the vortex. The howling current of fire spiraled outward, searing Blaziken and exploding outward, dissipating into the morning air.

"Lockon, finish this with our special move," Legend curled a strand of hair around one finger, casually releasing it, "Flame Mote Rifle Bits!"

Lockon once again spewed blue flames, and Blaziken, in anticipation of the attack, readied an Overheat to absorb the brunt of the blast. But rather than firing a stream of fire, the blue inferno coalesced into six long, rectangular segments. Lockon, eyes glowing blue and cloaked in a veil of power, sent the six motes shooting toward Blaziken. The bird-like Pokémon lashed out at one of them, but it darted backward, gushing flames at the Fire-type. The other five swarmed around the Blaze Pokémon, spouting gouts of blue fire at her. Blaziken, badly burnt, retreated as the motes expended themselves.

"I have to admit," Legend called out, an admiring tone in her voice, "Not many Pokémon, even Fire-Types, could hold out so long against Lockon's Rifle Bits," She flashed a smirk, "Too bad it's all over. Lockon, Psychic!"

If Pokémon could smirk, Lockon managed it, eye and frame glowing blue as he lifted Blaziken into the air, slamming the opposing Fire-Type into the ground and the surrounding hillsides, finally carving a furrow in the ground that spelt out a fifteen-letter-word that happened to be the one answer to that morning's crossword puzzle, before slamming the Blaze Pokémon into a rock pile.

"Yay…" Legend buzzed in a monotone, "Winning!"

Lockon just nodded, strapping on a badass-looking eye-patch over his right eye. He then turned once, searing the ground below him with a jet of blue flame before settling down and falling asleep.

"You put up a good fight, Blaziken," May murmured softly to her starter as she returned her, "Good job."

"Since you managed to hold out so long," Legend said loudly, "I'll tell you the one person who _might_ tell you. Not an explanation, just a name," As the others craned forward in anticipation, "Lightning."

"Lightning?" Max asked loudly, "That's not even a name! How are we supposed to know who that is?"

"You already do," Legend smiled cryptically, "Now leave. I prefer to nap when there _aren't_ other people around me."

As the crowd left Legend, more depressed than they already were, Looker, standing atop the Ketchum house, smiled broadly, "_Salute, Ser Biaggio.[4]_"

0000000000

_Cianwood City Beach, Johto, 6:10 AM Johto Standard Time_

_'Well, this sucks!'_

"Shut it, other me," Limit muttered, rubbing his head. How one managed to crash a four-million Poké space-worthy descent craft was beyond him, "Now what?"

The great Starneedle was resting at Cianwood City's airport, wings and fuselage wrecked, but repairable.

_'Well, first, you can give me back control of my body,'_ Limit One said, _'Secondly, we can find a waypoint gate and try to get to Pallet Town. Or if you're stupid we could—'_

"Let's walk!" Limit Two said, "It'll be good exercise for us!'

_'Fuck you.'_

"I hope to find some women who will," Limit Two countered, "Fortunately, Johto is renowned for the quality of its brothels and prostitutes."

_'Your mother is rolling in her crypt,'_ Limit One mentally face-palmed.

"Yes, yes she is," Limit Two declared proudly, "And I'm enjoying every minute of making that deceased old hag squirm."

_'Just give me back my goddamned body, will you?'_

"Fine, fine, I get it," Limit Two said, vainly tossing his long hair, "Just give it back to me at six PM so we can get laid."

_'Fine, you—'_

"Irritating bastard," Limit One finished as he reasserted control, "Now, how to get to Pallet Town."

"Well, I suppose I could give you transport there," Rang a familiar voice, "But it's going to cost you…"

"Charles," Limit whirled, "What are you doing here?"

"Officially, I'm lying on a beach, in a Hawaiian shirt, sipping a piña colada while stroking my magnificently large beard and visiting my grandchildren," Charles Goodshow replied, lifting his sunglasses, "Unofficially, I came here to make sure you have some fun in your life before getting into the serious stuff."

"You care too much about me," Limit stated bluntly.

"Yes, yes I do," Charles sat up, setting his drink on a small folding table, "Now, do you want to know what you have to do, or not?"

"What if I don't like it?" Limit asked as he sat down on a beach chair beside Charles.

"Well, then I guess I'll have to report you to Koya for insubordination," Charles snapped his fingers, ordering another drink from his assistant.

"Who's he going to believe, you or me?"

"You, but it will be fun to watch you squirm," Goodshow sucked down his drink, "I just want you to do one _tiny, insignificant_ little thing for me and then—"

"Oh, God, this is gonna suck," Limit remarked.

"Yeah, you have to bring me a contest ribbon…"

There was a long silence before Limit snapped, "_Cazzo![5]_"

"What does that mean Uncle Limit?"

Limit looked down, seeing Goodshow's miniscule grandson, Timothy, sitting beside him, a lump of sand in the rugged shape of a castle before him.

"Well, Tim, it's an old Italian curse word. Use it and have fun," Limit patted the boy on the head.

"Okay."

"So, you were saying…" Limit forced a smile, speaking through gritted teeth, "Contest. Ribbon. You."

"Yes, now hurry on," Goodshow made a waving motion, "Registration closes in four minutes."

Limit looked in the direction the League President had waved, seeing the sign that read 'Cianwood Pokémon Contest,' "I _really_ hate you right now. Do know how much he wants to kill you?"

"A lot."

"Yes. Now why in the hell do you want me to enter this contest?"

"Three minutes."

"Fuck off, old man," Two minutes later, Limit came back, brandishing a contest pass in Goodshow's face, "Happy?"

"Ecstatic."

0000000000

_Pallet Town, Kanto, 12:14 PM Kanto Standard Time_

"Right, all units sound off."

"Venezia, here."

"Targeter, here."

"I'm sitting right next to you. Do I really have to do this?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Piety, here."

"Good, Paul, good."

The three Agents, plus Satoshi, were crouched in the bushes beside Delia's house, reviewing the war plans they'd drawn up (Satoshi's school being cut short due to the attack the day before.) Paul, having donned a dark blue jacket, carved his tactical plan into the ground with one of Looker's (_many_) knives. Paul tapped a location on the grid twice, Looker nodding and vanishing in a gust of wind. Paul indicated another location, and Legend nodded, rushing off, not quite as fast as Looker did though. Finally, Paul gave a third location before moving off to his post.

Satoshi eyed the target, lifting a tiny communicator watch that Looker had given him for his eighth birthday, to his mouth "All units ready?"

"Ready," Came the chorused reply.

As he heard the creak of the front gate, Satoshi gave the order, "Attack!"

Looker leaped from the crepe myrtle tree that hugged the front wall of the house, hookblades sliding into position from their sheaths. As he did so, Paul launched himself from the brush, swinging Morningedge while Legend aimed and fired a taser.

The elder man whirled, deflecting Looker's right-handed hookblade and Legend's taser by sweeping the cloth of his duster upward. The Agent's left-hand shot out, blade hooking onto the fabric of the long coat. But the old man was wily, hurling the clothing away to deter the next strike, as well as catching and blocking Legend's shot. Paul rushed under the coat, swinging Morningedge in a broad arc. The blade was deflected upward by a gloved hand, the other seizing him by the shirtfront and hurling him into a bush.

"Well," Legend intoned, "I don't think I need to interfere."

"That's right," The older man said, "You don't want to end up like these two."

"No, Satoshi got your wallet."

"WHAT?!" The old man searched himself as the kid and the three Agents rushed off with his money, "GET BACK HERE, YOU KIDS!"

"Never!" The reply rose faintly from the crest of the next hill.

"Lord, those kids," The man muttered, running a hand through his short, brown hair, "What'll I do with them?"

"Let them off, Giovanni, and come in for coffee."

Giovanni Biaggio, Boss of Team Rocket, turned around to see his wife standing in the doorway, "Good to be home, Delia."

0000000000

_1:02 PM KST_

Looker meandered through the center of Pallet Town, his shoulders adorned by a young boy of no more than eight. Paul and Legend followed behind him, discussing various details of their mission. With a start, Looker whirled around, bringing the pair's conversation to an abrupt halt.

"I'm hungry!" He declared.

"Me too," Satoshi mumbled, "And we've only used up twenty dollars of Grandpa's money, on some knives at that knife emporium."

Looker was about to reply with a snappy remark, but froze, mouth open. Paul and Legend, too, stopped what they were doing, as though they entered another world.

"Update from Legion?" Looker muttered, eyes turning silver as he turned to face the horizon.

"Possibility of attack," Legend murmured, "High."

"Location: Pallet Town," Paul whispered, "Target: _Unknown_," With that, the spell broke, "Damn it!" He whirled, putting a hand to his chin.

"What's the plan, Paul?" Looker asked, still cradling Satoshi, "You're the tactician."

"I'm reviewing the data," Paul answered, eyes closed. He opened them, then cast out a hand at Looker, "I know you're eager for battle, Looker, but this will be one where your skills are not useful. Take Satoshi through the waypoint gate at Seafoam Island."

"Where to?" Looker intoned, trusting Paul's tactical skills.

"I don't know. Go anywhere, as long as it's safe. Don't tell me or anyone else but Koya and Limit," Paul turned to Legend, "You come with me."

"Right," She nodded, and turned to Looker, "Goodbye, dearest."

He smiled briefly, "_Addio, bella mia_,[6]" He murmured, giving the other Agent a kiss on the cheek, "May God go with you."

"And also with you," Paul replied, putting a hand on his shoulders, "Go! Now!"

Looker nodded, rushing for the harbor. As he approached, they saw that the ferry had already left.

"The boat's gone, Uncle Looker," Satoshi told him, "What'll we do?"

"Boat?" Looker smirked at the thought, "The way we're going, we don't need _boats_."

He ran to the end of the pier before hurling himself forward, against the waves. Satoshi clinging to his body, he ran faster than before, so fast that he crossed the water's surface, as opposed to plunging in. But keeping up this pace was tiring for him, and Satoshi knew that, with his extra weight, they'd have to stop somewhere.

"Looker, how long can you keep this pace?" The child asked.

"Don't need to," Looker smiled broadly in the rays of the sun and the spray of the sea, sliding forward on one foot at a time, then whipping and arm outward, releasing Skarmory. As the iron bird swooped down to pick them up, the Agent heard several faint pinging sounds, and leaped up onto his Pokémon.

"We've got company, kid!" He warned, turning around.

He spotted the three pursuing Galactic agents easily, as they made no effort to hide their presence. They soared on three Golbats, trying to shoot down Skarmory.

"We need to get ahead," Looker muttered, "Maria, Autotomize!"

The Skarmory, named Maria after Looker's paternal grandmother, glowed a steely gray, shedding bits and pieces of metal, and shot forward at double its speed.

"Autotomize?" Satoshi tilted his head questioningly.

"Halves her weight, doubles her speed," Looker grunted, "And now that we have enough of a lead," He drew a Pokéball, "Bartolomeo, assist me!"

A great, wraith-like shape detached itself from the orb, winging its way toward the sun before diving back down toward its opponents. An immense, clawed foot gripped two of the Golbat, crushing them downward with the sheer force of its dive. A pair of red wings flared as the dragon took to the skies again. The Dragon Pokémon, Salamence, roared a challenge to its remaining opponent.

The great dragon clawed at the other bat, but it swiftly dodged out of the way.

A familiar voice floated across the air to Looker, "Golbat, Air Cutter!"

"It's Mars," He growled, eyes glowing grey, _'Bartolomeo, get out of there!'_

The dragon hastened to obey, but Mars' attack still grazed its side. It tumbled for a moment, then turned on the Galactic commander, enraged.

'_Dragon Dance, then follow it with Iron Tail,'_ Looker relayed, then turned to his charge, "Satoshi, hold tight to Maria. She'll get you to safety!"

"Uncle Looker, where are you going?" The child asked piteously, "Don't get hurt."

Looker smiled sadly, standing atop his Pokémon. For all his maturity, he forgot that Satoshi was still just a boy, "I'm an Agent of the International Police, kid. I'm going to go earn my paycheck."

With that, he took a two-step leap off Maria's left wing, landing on the passing dragon. He settled in the hollow between Bartolomeo's wings, and they shot forward to deal with Mars.

"Do you really think you can beat me, Agent Looker?" The Galactic commander taunted.

"Honestly, no. I'm not going to beat you."

"Then why do you even—"

"I'm going to _destroy_ you!"

Mars growled at the statement, "Alright, _Agent_, you asked for it!"

'_Bartolomeo, we show no mercy today!'_

'_Understood, _amico_.[7]'_

Looker smiled broadly, deploying his right-hand hookblade, _'Execute tactical plan #417.'_

'_Which one was that, again?'_

'_The one with the flying, and the jumping, and the landing.'_

'_Spoken like a true Venetian.'_

"Air Cutter, again!"

A razor-sharp disc of air blasted toward Looker from Golbat's gaping maw. The Agent smirked, flourishing and cleaving the cutting wind in two with his blade.

Mars staggered in shock on Golbat's back, "That's impossible."

"_That_ is what the International Police does best." Looker replied, _'Execute!'_

The great dragon folded its wings, shooting toward the Galactic commander faster than thought possible by reliable biologists. Of course, they would drop dead at the sight of what most Agents were capable of. Among the culture of Agents, the Laws of Physics were considered less of a rule and more of a friendly suggestion by God not to overdo it, because it made the little people feel bad.

As he drew near his target, Bartolomeo angled slightly downward, ducking just below the Golbat. This, of course, gave Looker the opportunity to make a running leap from the dragon's head to the Poison-type's back. He landed gracefully, jabbing the hookblade in a swift, decisive stab. But Mars, who'd come prepared for this, deflected the blow off a knife. Looker drew back, hooking and hurling the blade away with his left-hand blade, then finished off the maneuver, hooking his right-hand blade over the armor that Mars wore and rolling over her shoulder to throw her from the flying bat. As she fell, she cried out to Golbat to help her, the Flying-type hastening to do so.

Looker breathed a quiet prayer, "My work here is done."

Planting a foot on the Golbat's head, he launched himself into empty space in a grand Leap of Faith, and was swept away as Bartolomeo rushed under him, carrying him toward Seafoam Island. Mars wouldn't be following him again anytime soon.

Bartolomeo made a heavy landing, hitting the sandy shores of the island with a mighty _thump_. Looker thanked his companion, returning him, then set about searching for Maria. He drew a pair of knives from his jacket, tapping the two together loudly. It wasn't long before he heard the clinking reply, following the sound to find the Steel-type crouching down behind a cluster of boulders, wings folded around Satoshi protectively.

"_Grazie, amica_,[8]" Looker intoned, returning her. He picked up Satoshi, slinging him over his back, "Hold on, kid."

They found the cave easily enough. The network of tunnels beneath the ground ran below both Seafoam and Frostern Island. The thing that Looker was counting on was the fact that the two islands sat on such a dense network of tunnels, certain sections of it would have caved in. This guaranteed that he'd be able to find a route down that most others wouldn't. The problem this posed was that, because parts of the caves collapsed, certain sections would be completely underwater. Not only that, but the system of caves was constantly shifting due to forces by water, ice, and the land above, such that caves collapsed, then sealed because of another collapse on a weekly basis.

Looker found a crag easily enough, a split that ran from the ground-level caves straight down to the ones below. He closed his eyes, something he always did before free-running, and jumped. He kicked down off the first wall he hit, landing on a ledge jutting out of the wall behind him. He made his way down thusly, slipping once on an icy patch on a ledge and falling two stories past his exit before he caught something. After dragging himself and the boy up about twenty feet, he finally pulled then into an open cave entrance.

"Alright, the waypoint gate's entrance is the next floor down," He told Satoshi, "Remember, when we see the Operator, be courteous, kind, and remember how to address him."

"I remember, Uncle Looker," The boy replied endearingly.

"Good boy," He patted the child on the head, then faced the dark recess of the cave, "Let's go."

0000000000

_Pallet Town, 1:17 PM KST_

Paul clambered up the side of Pallet Town's tallest structure: the great windmill that stood behind Oak's lab. Though much of the lab was trashed in the aftermath of the previous day's explosion, the windmill itself suffered no structural damage, merely some chipped paint. He wasn't nearly as quick as Looker to scale such structures, and it took him the better part of two minutes to reach the top. He planted his sword in the conical top, standing atop the wide crossguard for the extra height it afforded.

Contacting Legend, he spoke through his earpiece, "Are you all set?"

"_All set, Landing,"_ She replied, _"Just say the word."_

"I'll be firing from up here, so when you hear the cannon, that's your cue to get the hell out," Paul dropped down from his place, jacket rustling in the high-altitude wind.

He leaned back, sitting with his back against the immense blade, and held out his hands. Honchkrow, circling high above, dropped the package he held, then dove down to perch himself atop Morningedge's hilt. Paul undid the tangle of bandages (the favored wrapping material of most of the International Police), and set the barrel of the Spartan Cannon on his knee, HUD plate sliding from his earpiece to over his eye.

Below, in the town, Legend had pinpointed the Galactic agents, who were hell-bent on wreaking havoc, to an unmarked black van parked at the far corner of the town's central plaza. Good, that would ensure minimal damage when Paul fired the coup de grace.

"Honestly, could they be any more obvious?" She muttered, "Haro?"

"Kick their asses! Kick their asses!" The machine cried, nestled in the crook of her elbow.

"Right," She replied, unburdening herself of her rifle, "In the words of Lockon Stratos, I'm targeted and ready to fire!"

She aimed and fired thrice, taking out the van's windshield and front tires in an instant. There was some wild shouting, then three grunts poured out of the vehicle, looking for the source of their newfound impediment. They were forced to duck as Legend fired off another shot, this one rocketing over their heads, the sound of the heavy rifle firing reverberating through the streets.

_Twenty-five seconds._

Then another foot, this one free from the long, spandex leggings of the standard grunt uniform, stepped out from the van. Legend grinned savagely as Team Galactic's field operations Commander, Jupiter, approached. This was going to be fun.

"Agent Legend," The violet-haired woman smirked, hurling a Pokéball in the air to release a Golbat, "We meet again."

"That we do, Jupiter," Legend cocked her weapon, "It seems the stench of your perfume gets even more repulsive each time we meet."

The woman narrowed her eyes, "Remember who you're talking to, wench, or I'll—" There was a loud bang as the rifle went off again, and the Commander ducked to avoid the latest shot.

"You should remember who _you_ are talking to," Legend countered loudly, "Or the next one goes between your eyes."

_Fifteen seconds._

Jupiter tilted her head, making a show of looking around, "I don't see any of your friends with you. Taking an afternoon nap? And where's that little boy we're so anxious to meet?"

Legend smiled, counting the time left off in her head, "If you're interested in little boys, Jupiter, you have some _real_ problems. As for my friends, let's just say they're…getting ready."

_Five._

Jupiter frowned, trying to process Legend's statement.

_Four._

Legend shouldered her rifle, fingers brushing against the Pokéball she'd need.

_Three._

Jupiter's eyes widened in comprehension.

_Two._

She turned to the rest of her team to shout a warning.

_One._

Legend smirked, hurling her Pokéball to the ground, crying out, "Jeremiah, may your aim be steady!"

"Zero."

Paul intoned the countdown's end as he pulled the Cannon's trigger. The resulting blast, it was rumored for decades afterward, could be seen from Cinnabar Island, and heard as far away as Cianwood City. Nobody ever bothered to verify this, but it was true that a certain contest in the Johto city was interrupted by an explosive sound of unknown origin. The only one unperturbed, they would later say, was a mysterious man with long black hair, his right eye concealed by a wrapping of bandages. His only response, legend would later have it, was to walk over to the judges and ask "when will this damned event be over?" and "how many people do I have to kill to get out of here?"

Of course, that's all just rumor, and was all unimportant as of now.

The resulting explosion put anything Michael Bay could concoct to shame (barring, of course, the destruction of the White House in _Independence Day_.) The van blew up spectacularly, sending a mushroom cloud of flame high into the air. Jupiter stood, frozen in shock, and then rounded on Legend, who hid behind a towering rocky beast. It lowered its dome-like head in challenge, charging forward. Jupiter narrowly dodged Rampardos as it bashed her Golbat with its thick head.

"What the hell was that?!" She cried.

Legend smirked, "That was a variation Paul's level 4 bombardment technique: Quake Shredder."

"Quake Shredder?"

Legend nodded, holding up a finger, "They say it's called that because he once used it to rip an earthquake in four."

"And did he?"

The Agent shrugged, smiling, "That's for me to know, and for you to never find out."

Jupiter, incensed, lashed out at the Agent, "Get her!"

"Lockon!" The Ninetails leaped down from a building, where Legend had stationed him beforehand, "Inferno!"

Lockon reared his head, sending out a wave of blue flame. Atop Oak's windmill, Paul readied for the grand finale. The blue flare was the agreed-upon signal. Plus, he really hated Jupiter.

"Sorry, Your Majesty," He murmured softly, "I guess I can't help being a little trivial."

0000000000

_The Distortion World, Seafoam Waypoint Gate, Date/Time Information Inaccessible_

Satoshi gasped quietly as Looker passed through the portal. The Distortion World was nothing like Pallet Town. It was all… distorted. Looker floated in the microgravity of the alternate dimension, following a great corridor through the heart of the waypoint nexus. He arrived at the entrance to the nexus, pausing to take in the sight.

It was a great sphere, with a black, wraith-like shape at its center, sitting on a cushioned pedestal. The walls were decorated with flashing scenes of other points in the world: a city of canals, a field of blooming flowers, a cave with an ice-steeped crystal, and many others. The wraith, aware of their presence, turned, speaking in his rumbling telepathic voice.

_"It is a good day that I greet you, fleet-footed one,"_ Giratina growled, _"But I know not the time-turned-lightning-blade one."_

"Hail, black-wraith-red-whip-dragon," Looker said, addressing Giratina in the Ghost-type's strange, rambling speech.

"Greeting, Giratina," Satoshi replied politely, "Were you talking about my dad?"

Giratina chuckled, the sound's reverberations shaking the room, _"A polite one, this one,"_ He said, _"Not rude like others, asking first why I speak as I do."_

"May I ask why you do?" Satoshi tilted his head, prompting another bout of chuckling from the Legendary Dragon of Sinnoh.

_"In the old days,"_ Said he, _"Names had power. The name of one of my kind told a story of who they were. The ones I speak in this tongue, only a fraction of my whole name they are. Now, one of the last I am. So I must sustain my culture—if only in a small way—until another of my kind I meet."_

"Do you mean there are others like you?"

Giratina nodded, amused, _"But we black-shrike-red-shrike-sharp-toothed-dragons are few and far between. Difficult it is to anchor oneself to a dimension, but learned how, I did,"_ He drew a long, whistling breath, _"I am old, wise-child-lightning-blade-son, older than any you'll likely ever meet. It's comforting to this one that those like you there are: confident, kind, and above all, a good listener."_

Looker bowed, a difficult thing to do while floating, "I must take the child to a safe place, All-Seeing One. Could you aid me?"

_"That I will,"_ Giratina rumbled, turning to observe the world with interest, _"I'm glad to see you, sharp-claw-sharp-tongue-swift-footed-windraker. Too long, I have sat in this world and observed. Perhaps I need to—your soft-skin-pink-flesh-two-leg kind has a phrase—get out more."_

"Only if you feel like it," Looker said quietly, "Anything?"

_"You should move quickly, if the enemy can track you, you think,"_ Giratina boomed, _"Ttry to escape from satellite detection, you should. I would recommend the gate at Relic Castle. It's close to a populated area, and you'll be able to escape quickly if necessary, since that gate services Unova's central quarter."_

"Thank you, Giratina," Looker dipped his head, "I must go. Your world is not conducive to consistent time flow."

The Renegade Pokémon gave a thundering laugh, _"Ha! That it is not."_

As Looker drifted toward the hall to the waypoint gate, Satoshi turned, waving and calling out, "Goodbye, Mr. Giratina."

Giratina watched the boy, then brought one of his tentacle-like streamers to his front, hesitantly bending its red spike back and forth, in an imitation of the boy's movement, _"Not goodbye, just… see you later?"_

The child smiled endearingly, "See you later, then."

Looker smiled as he pulled himself and the boy toward the portal to Relic Castle, "Did I ever tell you what Lightning told your dad the first time he laid eyes on you?"

"No," Satoshi tilted his head, "What?"

"He told him: _'There's something about this boy. He will be truly great, just like you.'_ Of course, none of us thought anything of it at the time. But I think Lightning saw something in you that I'm just now getting a glimpse of," Looker closed his eyes, smiling beatifically, like a sleeping angel, "A truly good and pure heart."

But his smile faded after a moment, and he reach up, placing two delicate fingers over his heart.

_'…when you start to doubt the truth.'_

Closing his eyes, he shook his head and made a final pull, hurling himself through the portal.

0000000000

_Pallet Town, 1:23 PM KST_

Paul closed his eyes, placing his palms on the sloped, tiled roof of the Oak windmill. The shingles were ceramic; good, that would make this easier. His hands glowed a brilliant green, and a pulse of viridian energy surged along the kiln-fired tiles. He furrowed his brow, clenching his jaw, as he followed the wave of energy to the epicenter of the finale.

Below, Legend knew Paul would have seen the signs. All she had to do was keep Jupiter talking. After all, Paul would never let them down.

"I'm curious, Jupiter," Legend called loudly, Lockon and her Rampardos standing between her and the Galactic team, "Aside from Satoshi—who's an absolute sweetheart, by the way—why else are you here? I sure as hell know that Cyrus wouldn't send you here just to play kindergarten cop."

"Well, since you won't live long enough to see it, I suppose I'll enlighten you, wench," Jupiter smirked.

"Said every Bond villain ever…" Legend muttered under her breath.

"Did you say something?"

"No, no, nothing."

"Anyway, Cyrus wants what everybody wants, dear Legend," Jupiter spread her arms, pausing dramatically, "A permanent, everlasting peace in the world between all living beings."

"Don't we kind of _already_ have that?" Legend asked, exasperated, a weary smile on her face.

"Not so," Jupiter shook her head, "We still have conflicts between people. We still have crime. People still fight each other over trivial things," She smiled, "To end this, we must rid the world of emotions. Emotions drive people to destroy. Hate, anger, sadness: they all lead people to destroy, in one way or another."

"But emotion can create as well," Legend observed, "You know this well enough."

"But is it worth the price of such destruction? I think not, and neither do any of those of Team Galactic. What we want is to eliminate this world and create another in its place, one without all these troubling emotions."

"Have you ever seen _Equilibrium_?" Legend asked curiously.

"No. Why?"

"No reason," The Agent rolled her eyes, "So, you destroy everything in existence, then you remake the world in your own image, have I got it so far?" At Jupiter's nod, she continued, "Then you… what?"

The Galactic Commander cocked her head, "What do you mean?"

"That's it?" Legend raised an eyebrow, "_That's_ the whole plan?"

"Well, what's wrong with it?"

"You're planning on creating a whole new world and then doing _nothing_ about it?!" Legend looked at her counterpart incredulously, "That's the STUPIDEST plan I've ever heard! It's worse than Looker's plan when he was trying to get into that German villa to meet Morgan Freeman!"

Jupiter paused for a moment, "So… are we going to do a cutaway to that or what?"

"NO!"Legend yelled, furious. Then she seemed to catch hold of herself and calmed down a bit, gritting her teeth, "Whatever the motives, it's my job to stop you, so I will."

"Tell me, Legend," Jupiter began pacing (god, it was annoying when she did that), "Wouldn't you like to come over to _our_ side?"

Legend eyed the woman suspiciously, "How's the pay?"

"Pretty good. Upper-middle class."

"Insurance Benefits?"

"Full insurance coverage by the organization."

"Facilities?"

"Free boarding and food services, all covered."

"Where the hell do you get all this money?!"

Jupiter pursed her lips, eyes darting around guiltily, "Stuff…"

"Fine, don't tell me," Legend sighed, "I'm sorry you won't be able to win, Jupiter. It seems great and all, no hate and stuff. But the price will be too steep."

"What do you mean?"

"Look down."

Jupiter's eyes narrowed, then she tilted her head to look down at her feet. At first, she found nothing amiss, but then she saw it. The earth. Dirt was flowing over her boots as though whipped up by a sandstorm, creeping up her legs to hold her in place. Turning, she saw that the saw thing had already happened to her subordinates, who had been encased entirely in compact earth but for their heads, with their mouths sealed shut to prevent any warning escaping.

She sighed in exasperation, turning to Legend, "You know this isn't the last you'll hear from me, right?"

"I'd be disappointed if it were."

Nodding at Legend's parting words, Jupiter kicked out, metal boots breaking through the as-yet-unhardened soil quickly. Grabbing onto her Golbat's legs, she kicked free of the ground and swooped off toward the horizon. Legend watched her leave, then flicked at her earpiece.

"Well done, Paul," She said, "The Jennies will be over in about fifteen minutes, so I'll sit on them here while you get down from there."

Paul, from the top of the windmill, nodded, then paused as he heard a beep, "I've got another call, this one marked as urgent. I'll call you back," Switching to the other line, he spoke, "Landing."

The conversation was not very long, but it was jarring. As he hung up, Paul nearly forgot to call Legend back. Fortunately, he managed to reassert his faculties quickly enough.

"Legend, it was Lightning. He found the Temple."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, "Is he sure?"

"Not my area of expertise," He said wryly, "But, yeah, he's sure. The problem is that he can't get the gate open."

"Why's that? Where it it?"

"He couldn't say over the phone, but he will once we get to Orre."

"Got it. Anything else?"

"No, nothing."

"Roger that, then."

0000000000

_Deserts of Orre, 5:29 PM Orre Standard Time (Equivalent to 1:29 PM Kanto Standard Time)_

Among archaeologists, he was known as the Rose Baron. He never understood why, he just liked roses. He knelt in the hot sands of Orre's desert, hands clasped before him, as though praying. He did not turn as one of his team approached warily from behind, careful not to inadvertently offend him if indeed he was worshipping.

"Sir?" He asked tentatively. That would be Elliot, "Am I…"

"Interrupting?" The Baron asked, turning his head marginally, "No. It's nothing. Just thanking God."

"Well, sir," Elliot hesitated, "We've found the slab you told us about. It was right where you said it would be."

"Of course it was," The Baron smiled, removing his sunglasses, "Have I ever been wrong?"

"Well, there was that time you said that KFC would never dare release the Double Down—"

"That doesn't count," The baron handwaved, "In any case, what of the keystone?"

"According to records left in the antechamber—"

"Under the skeleton?"

"Yes," Elliot nodded, "The keystone was actually one whole, carved piece of metal that fell from space."

"A meteorite?"

"Yeah," Elliot showed him the documents, "According to the records left behind by the court's vizier, it seems that the keystone was divided into nine pieces, which were each shipped off to various places."

"Right," The baron cracked his knuckles, flicking a verdant lock of hair, "Track down those manifestos. I want those pieces found," As his assistant hurried to leave, the baron called after him, "And Elliot?"

"Yes sir?"

"Where did your shirt go?"

"It caught on fire when I was standing in the Temple's anteroom. Did you know that the skylight also functions as a giant magnifying glass?"

The Baron blinked, "No… I was unaware of that," He chuckled as his assistant hurried off, "It seems, Limit, that my old rival is going to get involved in this. I'm looking forward to it…"

0000000000

_Lostlorn Forest, Unova, 3:34 AM Unova Standard Time_

Looker narrowed his eyes as he looked out from where he'd landed, squinting in the darkness of Unova's nighttime. It was then that he realized that he was not, in fact, at Relic Castle, but rather in a large, winding forest. His eye twitched for several moments until he managed to utter a single word.

"_Cazzo!_" Looker slammed his head against a tree, "Ow! God, this is not good!"

"We were supposed to go to Relic Castle, right Uncle Looker?" Satoshi asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The portals change location sometimes," Looker explained through gritted teeth, turning to look at the child on his back, "It's a way for Giratina to be able to help the agency, but also to ensure that his realm is not intruded on."

"Oh, okay," The boy blinked, "By the way, you know that we're right in front of a waterfall, right?"

"Yeah," Looker nodded, "Giratina can only make portals on reflective surfaces, like water, or mirrors," he snapped on his earpiece, looking up at the glittering stars above, "I hope you're there, sir…"

_"Looker?"_

"Koya? That you?"

_"Of course it's me,"_ The Commander of the International Police replied, _"What's wrong? From your transmissions, you were supposed to be at Relic Castle. Why are you at Lostlorn Forest?"_

"We made a miscalculation," Looker answered, knowing that Koya had his location onscreen, "Something screwed up the jump and I ended up here instead."

_"Right, what'll you do now? I'm afraid I can't send any reinforcements, and I don't want you taking another jump with your obvious tiredness."_

"I've got family in the city," Looker replied, accepting that he wouldn't be leaving Unova for the time being, "I'll bunk with him for a few days; send me a transport if you would."

_"Understood. Koya out."_

Looker nodded, hanging up, as Satoshi asked, "You have relatives here?"

"Yeah," Looker smiled, pulling out a picture from his jacket, "See?"

Satoshi examined the picture, "Huh."

"But he's not old yet."

"Okay."

Looker raced to Nimbasa City as fast as his tired legs would carry him, flashing his badge to allay the suspicions of a young police officer at the city gate, then dashed on through, weaving through the city's streets until he found himself on the doorstep of 221B Solomon Street. The Agent had pulled up the hood of his inner shirt, the front of the cloth curving forward into a point, to conceal his face before he mashed the doorbell. After about a minute, he hit the button again. After the second minute, he hammered on the button repeatedly for a full thirty seconds with the speed of a god.

The door finally opened, "The hell do you want?!"

"Hello, Hilbert," Looker said amiably, "Nice to see you too."

Hilbert Castle, blinking the sleep from his eyes, examined the man on his doorstep more closely, "Leo—"

He halted as Looker held up a hand, "It's not safe to use that name here," He said, "We need to hide out here for a while."

Seeing the tired-looking child on Looker's back, Hilbert nodded, "Right, come on in."

The Unova native ushered the pair inside, glancing toward either side of the street before closing the door. Groaning as he flicked on a light switch, Hilbert glanced around his home. He was proud of what he'd accomplished on his own. Kicked out of his parents' house in Nuvema Town at the age of fifteen with failing grades, he would probably have joined a gang (like the Black Empoleon,) had he not been thrown a lifeline. He'd entered a shop in Nimbasa, only to find the place being held up. Not wanting to be on the business end of the thief's rifle, he'd explained that he only needed some food (using the last of his money too.)

That was when the thief had wanted his money.

Fed up with being kicked around, (or as he saw it with a new, more mature perspective, learning to survive on his own) he'd flown into a rage, railing on the mugger until the man begged for mercy, shotgun notwithstanding. One of the people in the shop had turned out to be Cedric Juniper, the region's acclaimed Pokémon Professor. Thankful to the young man who'd saved his wallet, (and possibly his life) Juniper had found him a well-paying job with a game company in the city, leaving him with an open offer to work as his assistant, if ever he needed a new job. Not wasteful of the second chance that God Himself had seemingly placed before him, Hilbert had plowed through his work with fervor, performing so well that the company's top designer had met and talked with him, and even looked over his work, calling the stuff "brilliant," and "an information revolution," and other such lofty terms.

Finally, he had amassed enough money to buy a house, rather than the apartment he was borrowing from Cedric. He'd furnished it well. The front door opened into the living room, a square room with a large, circular rug in its floor's center, and two couches backed up to the north and east walls, with a few glass tables to either side of them. The kitchen lay to the west, (to the left from the perspective of one entering the front door) and was well stocked with appliances, with appealing, aesthetic angles around the center counter. Upstairs was his bedroom, and the guest bedroom, along with the bathroom.

Hilbert gestured for Looker to sit as he moved toward the kitchen, calling out, "Want anything?"

"Some warm milk for the kid," Looker answered in a low, but still audible voice, "And a beer for me."

"You got it," Hilbert replied, half-filling a glass with milk and sticking in the microwave, then retrieving two bottle of beer from his fridge, which he brought to the couch, handing one to Looker as he sat down on the couch, "So, what brings you to my neck of the city?"

"Business," Looker said shortly, "I had to get the kid to safety. One miscalculated jump later, and I have to run here all the way from Lostlorn Forest."

"Lostlorn?" Hilbert raised an eyebrow as the microwave dinged, "I'd have thought Relic Castle—"

"That's where I was trying to go," looker stated, rising and holding out a hand as Hilbert tried to do the same, "No, I'll get it," He returned with the milk, coaxing a dozing Satoshi into drinking it, the child promptly falling asleep as he finished.

Hilbert watched the boy with interest, "This him?"

"Yeah."

"You were right, looks just like his dad," Setting his drink to the side, the Unova native leaned back, "So, what'll you do while in town?"

"Take Satoshi around, I guess," Looker replied amiably, "Although…"

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if I might take an assignment for the Order."

Hilbert smiled wryly, "That's up to the Grand Master to decide."

"Great," Looker sighed, "I've got a call to make," He tapped his earpiece, and squeezed his eyes shut as he heard his call connect, "Hey, Dad. I need a mission."

After a few minutes of quiet conversation, Looker hung up. Hilbert inclined his head, smiling, "So, how'd it go?"

"I need to get to Lacunosa Town by six PM," Looker told him, "It seems we have an errant witch."

Hilbert nodded, placing his hand over his heart, ring finger bent at the first knuckle, the jade ring carved with an eight-pointed star glittering on the folded digit. Looker did the same, a similar ring, this one of platinum, shining back.

"_Insieme saremos vittoriosi,[9]_" Looker murmured.

"_Insieme,_" Hilbert nodded, "So, get some rest, you'll need it."

"We're Venetians, Hilbert," Looker reprimanded, "We never rest."

Hilbert smiled and ushered him off to bed, Looker carrying Satoshi in his arms. As he closed the door to the guest room, Looker poked his head out.

"Thanks, Hilbert."

"It's what family's for, Leonardo."

0000000000

_Pallet Town, Kanto, 6__:23 PM KST_

Paul nodded as he tapped his earpiece, disconnecting his call, "That was Koya." He told Legend, "He said that Looker and Satoshi will be lying low in another region for a while."

"He didn't say where, right?" Legend asked wearily.

"No," Paul replied, tugging at the collar of his shirt, his jacket resting on the living room couch, beside Morningedge.

"Good," She nodded, "Now make me some coffee."

Knowing that if he didn't, she would just make him, Paul relayed the order to the machine from the dining table where they sat, "I should tell Delia," He said, "She'll be worried sick."

"Do that," Legend droned, slumping against the table, "I'm beat."

Paul left the tiles kitchen, feet sinking into the light gray carpet of the living room. It was an expensive kind of carpeting, and was soft on the toes. He paused for a moment, taking in the feeling of the yielding material, before continuing past the couch to the master bedroom. Delia sat on the edge of the king-sized bed's mattress, leaning against the headboard tiredly. She looked up in exhaustion as Paul sat down on the bed beside her. The mattress, too, was soft, one of those memory foam-types, like the one Looker had ("When I'm lying on that mattress, it's like I'm sleeping next to God.")

"I just got word from Looker, through Koya," he said quietly, "They're lying low in another region."

Delia nodded in acknowledgement, "What happened with my family that we all seem to end up in one adventure or another?"

"It's the Biaggio Curse," Giovanni intoned, stepping into the room from the adjoining bathroom, "Though I call it a gift."

Delia just nodded, "Well, I'm just glad Satoshi's safe. I'd hate for him to get hurt."

"As would I," Giovanni added, sitting down beside his wife. Looking up at Paul, he smiled tiredly, "You two go. I suspect you'll have some people to answer to."

Paul nodded, "I think you're right."

He left the bedroom, gathering up and donning his jacket like a stone-cold badass (for a demonstration, go here— watch?v=DiplMwQnrFo— with the spaces removed and ".'s" replaced with actual dots, and skip to 2:45). Legend looked up as his did so.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you wear your clothes like Tieria Erde?"

"Yes," He said, unwilling to admit that he took it as a compliment, "It seems some old friends have managed to recover from today's shocks. They'll want an explanation."

"Right," Legend nodded as she retrieved her rifle, "Do you want me to take care of them? I could have a hollowpoint in their heads in less than fifteen seconds."

"I'd rather you didn't," Paul answered, fixing his clothes, "I'll deal with them myself."

With those words, he exited the house, walking past the stout little gate and continuing to the right, down the Rue de Plumet in the direction that another group was approaching. He plunged his sword into the ground at the intersection of the Rue de Plumet and High Street (which ran from West on his left, to the East on his right), seating himself comfortably in the blade's crossguard as he waited. He flexed his wrists anxiously, split blade sliding out over his hand, then retracting as he relaxed. He did this numerously, eyes closed, until he sensed the arrival of the other group.

His eyes snapped open as he felt the first one round the turn from Main Street, the next street over. Brock. Of course; he was their natural leader, a constant in their lives, like Ash, the one who had brought them all together. He felt a second presence approaching from the east, to his left, but smiled as he identified the source. This would be fun. He retracted his blade for the last time, and tilted his head up.

"…_I would spread the cloths under your feet:_

_But I, being poor, have only my dreams;_

_I have spread my dreams under your feet;_

_Tread softly because you tread on my dreams._"

Paul smiled slightly as he recited the second verse of his favorite Yeats poem, "More so now do those words ring true than any other time I know, Brock," He stood as Misty, May, Dawn, and two others he didn't know rounded the bend, "Where do you think you're going?"

"We need to see Delia," Brock said, "There were some Galactic Agents in town today—"

"I know, we fought them."

"—And we encountered one of them," At this Paul raised his eyebrow, then gestured for Brock to continue, "They were carrying this," Brock brandished a picture, which Paull took, examining it carefully, "It looks like a baby picture of Ash, but the date on the back is wrong. It was taken only a few months ago."

Paul's eyes widened as the epiphany hit, "This isn't Ash."

"What? But it looks just like him."

"It's Satoshi. Satoshi V. Ketchum."

"Ketchum?" Misty frowned, "Like, Delia's kid?"

"No," Paul shook his head, "Like Ash's."

Dawn now joined in the confusion, "What do you mean?"

Paul sighed, hanging his head in exasperation, "He's not Delia's son. He's her _grandson_."

"Oh, that makes sense," Misty nodded sagely, "Which means that Ash... is his…"

There was a long pause before several peoples' minds were metaphorically blown.

"Oh my god!"

"Is it possible?"

"Ash had a kid?!"

Paul waited until the furor died down somewhat, hand cast across his right eye theatrically, "Yes, Ash is Satoshi's father."

Brock seems to stutter as he spoke, "A-and how old is h-he?"

"Eight, now," Paul answered, "The Agency's beloved son."

"What's that mean?" A young man with glasses asked.

"And you are?" Paul asked, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

"Max Maple, May's brother."

"And you?" Paul asked, turning to the other.

"Tracey Sketchit, Oak's assistant."

"Pleasure," Paul said curtly, "To answer your question, everyone at the Agency absolutely _adores_ that child, up to and including the Supreme Commander."

"Wow!" Dawn's eyes grew wide, "We have to see that kid!"

"Can't, he's not here anymore."

"What?!" Paul sighed as the group, once again, displayed their rather annoying habit of saying everything together, "Where is he?!"

"Don't know," Paul shrugged, smirking, "Looker took him when Galactic attacked. Beyond that, I don't know where, but his report stated that he was not in Kanto anymore."

"Oh," Brock sighed, then remembered the glimpse of the boy and the sliver of conversation he'd heard the previous night, "Wait, who's Satoshi's grandfather?"

"Ash's dad," Paul said simply, "Any more information will have to come from Legend, or No. 12 Rue de Plumet."

"Okay," Brock said warily, "But, you never fully explained what happened to Ash. That's why we're here."

Paul eyed them all carefully, before turning toward High Street, "They're here."

Over the hill, that had earned its name as High Street, came two figures. The setting sun silhouetted the pair until they drew near. One was familiar to the group, Mimey, Delia's housekeeper and best friend. The other was a small child, maybe of age four or five, who walked next to the Mime Pokémon. He had red, spiky hair that refused to lay flat, and had a sharp, angular face reminiscent of a now(-slightly)-reformed crime lord.

As the boy drew near, his eyes widened as he saw Paul, "Uncle Paul, were you waiting for me?"

"In a sense," Paul smiled at the boy, "How are you, Silver?"

"Fine," The child answered shortly, "Do you need me?"

Before Paul could reply, Dawn jumped in, hugging the boy to her chest, "He's so cute!"

Unfortunately for her, she felt the point of a stiletto knife pressed against her throat, and looking down, she saw Silver holding the extremely pointy object to her neck.

"Hey, Uncle Paul, can I ice her?"

"What did your father say, kid? No icing people if there are witnesses."

Silver nodded and removed the knife, stepping away from a shocked and shivering Dawn, "Can I go home now? Daddy promised he would teach me how to cut cocaine when I got back."

"You go right ahead kid, and tell him to save some for me. And tell them I might be bringing some guests home."

The child nodded, then went on his way toward the house, Mimey trailing behind, fussing over him.

Paul turned back to his audience, "You want to know what happened to Ash?"

"Yeah," Misty said loudly, "Five years ago, Ash won the Kanto League. A week later, he drops off the face of the earth. We don't hear anything about him until your friend shows up and talks about him," Her voice broke as she continued, "And then we hear that he's dead. Dead! And we don't even know what happened," Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes, "He was my best friend, so _please_, tell us what happened."

Paul gazed at her for a long moment, then he sighed, "Alright, I get it. I can tell you in more detail at the house. I left my earpiece there and might need it later."

Misty nodded in thanks, then whipped around and glared at May as the Coordinator's cell phone went off.

"Sorry!" She fumbled with the device and answered it, "Hello? Oh… He's right here… O-okay," She offered it to Paul in confusion, "He said to tell you that 'Heaven's thrice-blessed son calls for his knight.'"

Paul's eyes widened and he snatched the phone from her grasp, "Limit? Is that you?"

_"Yes, Paul,"_ Limit's cool voice answered, _"You're probably wondering why I'm taking so long."_

"Yes, it's unusual for you," Paul replied.

_"Go back into the house and switch to channel twenty-seven,"_ Limit promptly hung up.

Paul turned and rushed back toward the house, throwing a hasty, "Come on!" over his shoulder. He rushed past the gate, vaulted over a startled Silver, and rolled into the living room, whereupon Legend's head snapped up.

"The rush?" She asked, dropping the '_what's the'_ part.

"Channel 27, now," Paul replied breathlessly.

Legend turned the TV on, flipping to the appropriate channel as the other group entered the house. Her eyes widened as she watched, "Impossible."

0000000000

_Cianwood City Contest Hall, Cianwood City, Johto, 4:37 PM JST_

Limit Two chuckled sadistically as he hung up, "Charles, you old bastard," He snarled, "If I survive this, I'm going to kill you."

He walked onto the open field that doubled as the stage, the announcer doing his job, _"This next contestant is something of a mystery to us. He applied four minutes before closing, cursing out some old man. Everyone, let's give a warm welcome to… Vladimir Limit!"_

The audience cheered, if a little subdued due to confusion, as the MC cleared off the stage. It mattered little to Limit (Number One had taken over.) He'd already accessed _Legion_'s records on the judges, and knew exactly which Pokémon to use to play to their preferences.

"Loading complete," he murmured, "Executing Awesomeness Subroutine. Subroutine Initiated." He reached into his longcoat's pockets, drawing and hurling a Pokéball high into the air, "Charizard, I choose you!"

The draconic Fire-Type loosed a sheet of blue flame as he made his debut, flapping his wings impressively as he drifted down to the soft dirt below. All the while, Limit was planning with the speed of thought, and a very helpful supercomputer.

_'This is the Appeal Round. Judges will be looking for impressive displays of power, skill, and elegance. First, show skill. A combination of Blast Burn and Solarbeam will suffice for this, and may also qualify for elegance. For power, utilizing an Iron Tail-driven Earthquake, combined with Flamethrower will be enough to simulate a Richter-Scale 4 volcanic eruption. Lastly, to solidify an elegance rating, a drill-like attack using Flamethrower and Air Slash will work.'_

He opened his eyes, placing a hand across his bandages, "This'll be interesting," he murmured, then, raising his voice, he called out, "Alright, Charizard, you know the plan!"

Charizard nodded, wafting into the air.

_"It seems that this no-name contestant already has a plan, folks! Let's see how it works out…"_

_'Better than your life ever will, loser!'_ Limit Two snapped sadistically.

_'Shut it, Number Two,'_ Limit answered.

_'Make it so, Number One.'_

_'Honestly, a Star Trek reference, Cortega? Not even a good one at that!'_

Charizard spiraled upward, releasing an explosive wave of flame that burned with the brightness of ten suns (that's 3.75*10^29 lumens!) Then the great dragon slid sideways, firing off a brilliant beam of light that cut the cloud of flame into four pieces, which promptly exploded.

_'A bit showy, wasn't that?'_

_'Indeed, Number Two.'_

Charizard angled upward, gaining altitude for the next move, powerful wings generating gusts that swept over the audience.

_"Look at that power! And how skillfully that Charizard cut those flames, all without even having to recharge. Yes, folks, it seems we've got the makings of a winner here!"_

_'I just hope we don't make a habit of this.'_

_'Well said, Number One.'_

The Fire-Type had reached the recommended height for the next maneuver, and now dove downward toward the stage's center, tail glowing a metallic black. He slammed his tail into the floor, unleashing a searing blast of flame from his maw that liquefied the earthen stage beneath him. Seeing that the Earthquake had done its job, the Flame Pokémon rocketed upward, followed by an explosion of hot lava that shot into the air. Seeing the potential danger to the crowd, Limit lashed out a hand toward Charizard, giving his first order since the beginning.

"Contain it and absorb it into the next move!" He commanded, deep voice ringing across the field, melting hearts left, right, and in the middle, but slightly more to the left (for the field's center was now home to an active volcano.)

Charizard gave a brief nod, then began spiraling upward around the erupting cone, drawing the airborne embers in like a herder, creating a drill that a certain mecha-operator would have said "pierced the heavens." Then, reaching the apex of the drill in his rotations, the Flame Pokémon split the cone of lava down the middle, weaving between the two burning columns and bisecting the two halves of the drill with another Air Slash. The four newly-split columns of magma crashed down, sending a spiral of flames high into the sky, which dissipated in a wash of heat.

Charizard wafted lazily downward as the audience stared in shock and awe. Then the cheering began. It was deafening to any normal person, but fortunately, Limit was not normal. He smiled slightly and waved to the crowd, a thousand people waving back. The MC walked back onto the field and congratulated him.

_"That was a great show, Mr. Limit! We hope we'll see you again,"_ The announcer then covered his microphone, "By the way, could you do something about the volcano?"

"Oh, yeah," Limit gestured to Charizard. The Flame Pokémon touched down beside the earthen cone, leaned forward, and yawned on it.

The volcano collapsed to the ground in a heap of earth.

Limit smiled as he watched the mountain collapse.

"Jenga."

0000000000

_Pallet Town, Kanto, 6:49 PM KST_

The group huddled around the TV was awestruck.

"Who was that?" May asked wondrously.

"That was Vladimir Limit," Paul murmured, shocked.

"In a fucking _contest_!" Legend added.

"Charles probably put him up to it," Delia said from the kitchen, where she was making pizza, "You know how he thinks the boy doesn't get enough fun in life."

"He doesn't," Legend replied, "Get enough fun, that is."

"Ain't that the truth?"

Brock and Misty whirled as they heard the voice, "GIOVANNI?!"

Silver and Giovanni sat at the dining table, where the Rocket boss was showing his son how to cut a pile of sugar into neat little lines with a razor blade.

"Oh, hello, Brock, Misty, how have you been?"

"What are you doing here?!" They asked, drawing their Pokéballs.

However, before anything could happen, they were both summarily whacked over the head with a broom, There will be NO fighting in my house!" Delia Ketchum yelled.

"I wouldn't argue with my wife, if I were you," Giovanni said, showing Silver how to properly load an Uzi, "I don't."

"Who are you?" Max and Dawn asked together as Tracey shrunk back slightly.

"Giovanni Biaggio, CEO of Rocket Industries, and Head of the Biaggio Crime Family," Giovanni said, now demonstrating how to arm a Molotov Cocktail, "You probably know my eldest son."

"Silver?" Dawn looked at the boy, "We've met."

"No, he's my youngest," Giovanni shook his head, "I'm surprised you haven't met him, he was the League Champion of Kanto, you know."

"Ash?!" Misty and Brock screamed in shock, "Ash is your _son_?!"

"Yeah," Giovanni nodded, "That's about right." I all started about thirty years ago—"

"The flashbacks can wait," Paul said, sitting back down on the couch as he sighed, "What do you want to know?"

"How did Ash get to Orre? And what happened to him?" Brock asked.

"He and I had already become Agents by that time. We were on assignment from the International Police, investigating rumors of some organization called Cipher," Paul raised a hand to his head; this was hard to talk about, "We were asking around Outskirt Stand—that's the Mos Eisley of Orre—when we managed to jump a pair of Cipher grunts. Turned out they were looking for something buried under Orre," he raised a hand to forestall the coming question, "It's classified. Point is, we also got the location of their base out of them. We found it at the bottom of Eclo Canyon—basically, the stage for the Boonta Eve Classic Pod Race. I know some people hate _The Phantom Menace_, but I personally love Liam Neeson swinging around a lightsaber, being awesome…"

"Paul," Legend reminded, "Eclo Canyon?"

"Right," Paul nodded, wiping a line of drool from the corner of his mouth, "Once we got to the base, we managed to get inside using a wonderful ruse that involved a ceiling fan, itching powder, whipped cream, and a two-liter bottle of Mentos-infused Diet Coke. But that's beside the point. We wormed our way through the base's tunnels before we came to the motherload."

"What was it?" Max asked.

"A two-ton carving of an ancient temple, lit by the rays of the sun, which had the power to destroy the world," Leaning back, he laced his fingers and closed his eyes, "We hid the carving—I won't say how—and managed to get a message out to our commander from outside the base," He took a deep breath, "That was when it happened. One of us set off a pressure plate. Ash was the only one who caught it and warned us away… But he couldn't get away himself. The mine went off just in front of him," Paul's head sagged with the effort of his retelling, tears falling from his eyes.

Silver made his way over to the Veilstone native and climbed up on the seat beside him, cradling his foster uncle's head to his tiny chest. He rustled the older man's hair as he whispered something in his ear. Paul nodded and ran his sleeve across his eyes, flicking away his tears.

"Sorry," he said quietly, tossing his hair in self-deprecation, "It's hard to talk about," At their nods of understanding he continued, "I woke up in the Agency Medical Ward a week later. Looker, with all his speed, was able to avoid most of the blast, while Legend had been ahead of me, so she was slightly shielded by my body," He turned and smiled at Silver as the boy put a hand of his back, tracing over the places where shrapnel had slashed his skin, "We suffered gashes and burns, but nothing that wouldn't heal over time. Ash though…" Paul's eyes had a lost look to them, "His body was severely damaged, especially the limbs and chest. I didn't leave his side for a week, barely ate, and barely slept. I just sat there, watching him, praying."

"Why?" Dawn asked softly.

"I was the one who triggered the pressure plate."

The room fell silent at Paul's quiet declaration.

"Are you sure?" Dawn asked gently.

"No matter how many times I replay it in my head," Paul murmured, "I can't forget that feeling, that slight give I barely felt when I took that step. Ash heard it, though. He knew, and he made sure to get us out of harm's way before himself," Paul's shoulders sagged as he rested his head on his hand, "Stupid altruist," The Agent sat like that for a moment before shaking his head, dismissing the memories, "Next question."

Shocked at his readiness to speak again, nobody said anything until Dawn managed to stutter, "Wh-who _are_ Looker and Legend? I mean, how did they meet Ash? And why did you join the International police?"

"That's a hard one to answer," Paul said, leaning back, "I wasn't there when he met Looker, so I can't say. But I can say that we were introduced to Legend by our commander, Sumeragi Fei Koya. As to your third question, I was ordered to."

"Ordered?" May asked, not seeing how anyone could command the authoritative man before her, "By whom?"

"He's at it again," Legend said simply, directing their attention to the TV.

0000000000

_Cianwood City Contest Hall, Cianwood City, Johto, 5:54 PM JST_

Limit sighed as he observed his opponent: it was him. It just _had_ to be him. If it had been any other day, he would have gone easy on the guy. But today, he was playing to win.

"Altaria, let me hear your song!" Nando cried, tossing the ball in the air.

_'Oh freaking great: a Dragon-Type. You want to crush it, or do you want me to do so?'_ Limit Two asked with exasperation.

_'I got this,'_ Limit One replied, with equal tiredness, "Sceptile, end this quickly."

_"Countering a Dragon/Flying combo with a Grass-Type?!"_ The MC spoke quickly, _"What is our Mr. Limit thinking?!"_

_'You'll know what I'm thinking when I shove my boot up your—'_

_'Easy, Number Two. Think evil thoughts. Stab… kill… mutilate… dismember…'_

_'I'm feeling… a little better. Thanks.'_

_'Don't mention it.'_

"Let's get this started, Altaria!" His opponent cried out, "Use Dragon Dance!"

Altaria rose into the air, motes of red energy spiraling around it, and let out a screech. That is to say, a screech of pain, as it tumbled to the floor and hit the ground with a loud _crash!_ Sceptile landing on its feet nimbly a few yards beyond.

_"Amazing!"_ The announcer called, _"Not only did Mr. Limit interrupt Nando mid-move, he did it without anyone noticing!"_

_'Ah, this is fun!'_ Limit Two exclaimed,_ 'Like the time we had tea at that British military base.'_

_'There were a lot of "Jolly good's" and "Yes, yes's" and "My, I seem to have spontaneously combusted's," weren't there?'_

_'Yes, yes, there were.'_

"Sceptile, use the _Drachenhammer_," Limit ordered calmly, "But make it flashy."

_'Bah, that reptile doesn't have a flashy bone in his body!'_ Limit Two snapped, _'Now, Hyper Beaming pillars to collapse them on our enemies, _that_ sounds fun.'_

Sceptile nodded at the order, returning to Limit's side of the field as the opposing Dragon-Type recovered from the attack.

"I'm surprised to see you here, Limit," Nando remarked casually, "It's certainly been a while."

"Were you the one who put it in Goodshow's head that I should be here?" Limit asked out of exasperation, as he knew Sceptile awaited his execution order.

"Of course," Nando said, tossing his hair in a satire of vanity.

_'I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!'_ Limit Two roared (mentally of course.)

"According to my schizophrenia, you have to die," Limit told his opponent, "I'll give you three days at best."

"I'll take those odds," Nando said confidently.

With a spark in their eyes, the idle chitchat was over.

"Altaria, Sky Attack!"

"Sceptile, _Drachenhammer!_"

Altair took to the air, glowing a flaring blue, as Sceptile leaped up with it, palm glowing a bright golden color. A swarm of stone flew up around him, circling the grass-Type menacingly. With a quick, final set of calculations, each trainer made their call.

"NOW!"

The doubly-voiced order set both Pokémon off like a gun trigger. Altaria lunged, still wreathed in blue light, and Sceptile, hurled its yellow-glowing Focus Blast, followed by its circling Rock Slide. The two attacks met head on, an explosion of dust the result as the rocks were powdered and the Flying-Type's attack was interrupted. But it was Altaria who plummeted to the ground, Sceptile forcing it downward, using it as a cushion, and building up a powerful violet sphere in his mouth. In the split-second before they hit the ground, Sceptile leaped off, unleashing his Dragon Pulse on Altaria as the Dragon-Type slammed into the ground.

The weakened Humming Pokémon wafted itself wearily into the air, standing on shaky legs as Sceptile hit the ground, rolling to diffuse the impact. As Altaria turned back to look at Nando, the announcer started speaking again.

_"What will Nando do? He's seen his opponent's moves, a famed trick of his, and we all know he's turned around worse battles than thi—"_

"I surrender."

Nando made his declaration with a raised fist and closed eyes, then smiled slightly, "I just can't beat you…" And under his breath, he spoke a single word, at which Limit drew a sharp breath, his nostrils flaring. Then the minstrel smiled knowingly and left the arena.

Limit stood quietly as the MC announced his victory, and as the crowd hesitantly cheered as he was awarded the Cianwood Contest Ribbon. But he did smile as he took the ribbon, a blue streamer woven through a spun-glass sphere, and thrust it high in the air.

_'Maybe I did have some fun, after all, Charles.'_

0000000000

_No. 12, Rue de Plumet, Pallet Town, Kanto, 6:17 PM KST_

Legend and Paul both gaped at the TV as the contest ended.

"Huh," Paul murmured.

Legend spewed her coffee in a meticulously dispersed spray, successfully drenching Brock and Misty whilst not getting a single drop on the couch, "Why do you _always_ wait until I'm drinking to shock me?!"

"Well," Said Silver, unusually articulate for a four-year-old boy, "That was—" His sentence was cut off as he slumped against the table and fell asleep.

"Oh, must be time for his nap," Delia murmured as she bundled the small boy away to bed.

Legend stared at the now-off TV, "Fffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu—"

"So, who exactly is Limit?" May asked, "Another Agent?"

"—Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu—"

"Yeah," Paul answered, "He has the highest Information Access level in the entirety of the International Police. He likes his privacy, which is why his identity is a closely-guarded secret."

"—Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!" Legend finished her curse and looked up, "Where'd he learn to do _that_?!"

"Legend, he's got a direct uplink to _Legion_. Where do you think he learned?"

"Oh, right."

"What's _Legion_?" Brock asked.

Paul considered it for a moment, "I can only give you so much information. Even I don't know everything about it. What I _can_ tell you is that it's a hyper-intelligent AI supercomputer, and only three people in the world have unlimited access to it."

"Who?"

"Can't tell you. The list is so secret that even an Agent as high up as myself can't get to. The only people who can see the list are those already _on_ the list," Paul, at that point, got up, "I'm going to go call Koya. You be fine, Legend?"

"Of course," Legend replied, smiling.

As Paul moved away, Dawn leaned closer to Legend, "What's with Paul? He's the same as he always was to us, but he's nice and friendly with you and Looker."

Legend chuckled, snapping her fingers, and Haro rolled out from under the couch, reaching up with an extensible arm to give her a can of beer, "Paul took a while to warm up to us, but he's a good guy. He's dependable, and he's saved our lives enough times to warrant my absolute faith," She smirked and gave a bark of laughter, as though enjoying a private joke.

"So, Paul said he was high up. What did he mean by that?" Brock raised his eyebrow as he spoke.

"His talents are invaluable," Legend said, looking off to the front door where Paul had left through, "He's a genius with strategies, one of which earned him the nickname, _the Chessmaster._ But he's also a brilliant tactician, which earned him his other name, _the Hannibal_. Like the _A-Team_ one, or the Carthaginian one."

At their blank stares she gave up. However, she was spared from more questions as Paul entered the room.

"Charles will be meeting us here with Limit. Apparently, the waypoint gates closed just after Looker got out."

"Why?" Legend raised an eyebrow. The waypoint gates were rarely closed.

"Inter-dimensional maintenance," Paul answered simply, "_That One_ thought He felt something shift in the dimensions, and He thinks it may have screwed up Looker's jump."

"Right, so they'll take a _Pelipper_?"

"Yeah. In any case—" Paul froze and narrowed his eyes. Legend mimicked his actions, both of them caught up in their own world. Then, as soon as it had begun, and the others had begun to realize it, they were back. The Veilstone native snarled, "Damn it, _Socrates!_"

"What is it?" Giovanni asked.

"It indicates a high level of danger in Unova for Satoshi!" Paul said loudly, "I never should have sent Looker to the waypoint gate; it was a trap!"

"Excuse me," Dawn broke in quietly, "But, who's _Socrates?_"

Legend looked at Paul, who was shaking with rage, and answered quietly, "An AI subroutine designed with exactly one purpose and one purpose only: to protect the Biaggio Family—whoever was considered family by blood or by bond—by any means necessary."

"Wait, you mean Ash's family?" Misty turned to Giovanni, "Like you? Why?"

"Who do you think financed _Legion_'s construction?" The Rocket Boss smiled knowingly, "It is a long story, so sit back. I had just two conditions when I was approached by the International Police: that they include a subroutine of my choosing, no questions asked, and that they execute my mother. This was back when the International Police was very small, and not well-off. My mother, the Madame Boss, was still alive head of Rocket Industries. A calculating, vicious, woman who despised me and tried to force me into the shadows, I knew I'd never be free of her unless I did something monumental, something no member of our family had done until I did. I worked with the law. Not _for_ it, mind you, that wouldn't be appropriate, but alongside it, where I met and befriended a young man named Charles Goodshow," Giovanni smiled and pulled out a cigar, lighting it with a flick of his wrist, though no lighter appeared, "We remained friends even after I began working against the law, friendly rivals in the same business. _Socrates_, the subroutine that I had programmed into _Legion_'s systems, worked as expected. Fortunately, something happened that I didn't expect."

"What was that?" Gary asked, speaking for the first time, voice a deadened tone of loss.

"Ash," Paul ground out the name, still trembling with anger at his own blunder, "Delia, Giovanni's girlfriend at the time, found out she was pregnant. While he didn't like the fact, he was resolved to stand by her. But…"

"I said no," The gathered group turned to look at Delia, Giovanni having a slightly sad smile. The Ketchum matriarch continued, "Even though Giovanni would have stayed with me, I knew I would only hold him back from his path. So, as they say, you have to let go of the things you love…"

"That still doesn't explain why Giovanni was kidnapping Pokémon and being a world-class mafia boss," Brock pointed out.

At this the Rocket Boss and his wife burst out in a chorus of "oho ho ho's."

"That was all the result of my mother," Giovanni chuckled wryly, "Though it was a complete tragedy at the time, we can look back on the whole '_my mother's secret police almost killed my wife, making me think she was dead and sending me on a fifteen-year-long crime spree'_ thing, and laugh."

This set off another round of guffaws by the couple.

"They have a _really_ fucked-up sense of humor," Legend remarked quietly.

"So is that really what happened?"

"Yes, but it's funny in retrospect."

"Funny? People _died!_"

"It was all good sport. Besides, I sent flowers to the funerals."

"Sir," Paul sighed tiredly, "With all due respect, I think you're missing the point."

"The point is a myth, Paul," Giovanni stated confidently, "Just like global warming. Rick Perry said so."

As he said this, an immense hammer crash-landed in the backyard, sending out an electrical pulse that separated Dawn's blue tresses into individual hairs.

"I think you angered the Gods. Specifically Thor. _Again,_" Paul looked menacingly at the hammer now obscuring his view of two small children crying their eyes out a half-mile away, _"Return to sender!"_

The hammer meekly retreated to the heavens.

Returning his attention to the gathered group, Paul rested his head against his hand, glaring ominously out of one eye, "So, you've heard our tale. What have you to say?"

Brock cringed slightly under the Sinnoh native's gaze, but rallied forth, "You still haven't told us why Ash joined the International Police!"

"That's true," Paul replied indifferently, "I haven't. It isn't my place to tell."

"Then whose?" Misty snapped, "We want to know what happened to our friend, and why!"

"Is that so?" Paul asked sardonically, "Tell me, Misty; when did you first realize Ash was missing?"

Misty was taken slightly aback by that question and opened her mouth to reply angrily, but a cutting glare from Paul made her think twice, "Th-the week after he'd gone. He said he was just going for more training. After that, he dropped off the face of the earth!"

Paul nodded, "I thought so. None of you realized he was gone until the week after, did you?"

Brock looked shamefully at the ground at that. He knew it was true. Sometimes, he blamed himself for not looking out for the man who had been like a brother to him.

"All but one, that is."

The group, as one, looked shocked, and began turning, looking for who it could be.

Paul left them, smirking, and answered his now-buzzing earpiece, "Hello... Oh, it's you," He turned away from the still-chaotic group and replied, "Very well, then, I'll be seeing you."

As he returned, Brock froze. Paul seemed almost… happy. That was something the Pewter Gym Leader had _never_ seen in all the time he'd known him.

"That was Limit," Paul told Legend, "He'll be arriving here later."

"So, he'll be late?"

Paul mustered up his most regal air, "A wizard is never late, nor is he early. He arrives _precisely_ when he means to."

"So, he'll be late."

"Yeah, he'll be late."

0000000000

_Clock Station, Lacunosa Town, 11:27 AM UST_

Looker sat himself on a bench under the great clock of Lacunosa Town's famed Clock Station, munching on a Cinnabon. His contact was late, so he decided to spend the time staring at people as they walked by, muttering sinisterly about the fact that "I know what you did last summer."

"And how is it that you know what they did, eh?"

Looker glared at his contact, "You're late. And to answer your question, it's like how horror movie villains know, except my way involves backstories and time travel, and theirs just backstories."

The contact took a seat next to him, fluffing his green hair, "Hilda will join us at the entrance to the Giant Chasm, and from there, we can determine where to find your witch."

Looker nodded, standing, "Then let's not waste time," His expression softened, "By the way, I hear that Cyrus is working with—"

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," The contact stood too, "He's chosen his path. There's no saving him. Not then, not now, not ever."

Looker took in his companion, then smiled, "Come, then. Let's leave these depressing topics and go bag us a witch!" He looped an arm around his friend's neck and dragged him toward the Station exit.

"Thank you, Looker."

"You're welcome, N."

**The answers to last chapter's quiz are as follow:**

**1) Giovanni. 2) Heh, no, I'm not telling you **_**exactly**_** yet. 3)A lot.**

**4) Politics. 5)Yeah, no, still not yet. 6)Islamic.**

**And for this chapter:**

**Isn't Looker's smile simply **_**dazzling?**_

**Just how sexy **_**is**_** Lockon?**

**Why is Leap of Faith capitalized?**

**Why does Mars have such bad fashion sense?**

**Why does Giratina sound like Yoda?**

**Who is the Grand Master/Looker's dad?**

**Why does Looker want to feel like he's sleeping next to God?**

**How mind-blowing is it that Ash has a kid?**

**How freaking cool was that **_**Drachenhammer**_**, huh? (Yeah, I'm not impressed either.)**

**How many "u's" were there in Legend's dragged-out 'fuck?"**

**When I'm referring to **_**Socrates**_** and a **_**Pelipper**_**, what video game franchise am I referencing?**

**How awesome was it when Paul sent Thor's Hammer back to Asgard?**

**TRANSLATION NOTES:**

**[1]: Asshole!**

**[2]: Beautiful. Understand? (Lit. My beautiful.)**

**[3]: Shit!**

**[4]: Hello, Sir Biaggio.**

**[5]: Fuck!**

**[6]: Goodbye, beautiful. (Lit. My beautiful.)**

**[7]: Friend.**

**[8]: Thank you, friend.**

**[9]: Together we will be victorious!**


	4. Dead Ringer

**Some of you may be confused about the order of time. Since the five regions plus Orre—at the time of this writing—are so disparate, each must have their own time zone. Here's how I've set it up.**

**Kanto Standard Time (KST) 12:00 AM**

**+5 Hours Hoenn Standard Time (HST) 5:00 AM**

**+4 Hours Sinnoh Standard Time (SST) 9:00 AM**

**+5 Hours Unova Standard Time (UST) 2:00 PM (14:00 Hours)**

**+6 Hours Orre Standard Time (OST) 8:00 PM (21:00 Hours)**

**+3 Hours Johto Standard Time (JST) 11:00 PM (23:00 Hours)**

**+1 Hour KST 12:00 AM**

**And remember people! REVIEWS MAKE ME WRITE FASTER! It's simple psychology: if I get more reviews, I remember to write more of this, leading me to write more of this, then publishing it so that you can write me more reviews. This continues cyclically until I either collapse out of sheer exhaustion or I finish the story. Hopefully the latter.**

**/**

**Chapter 3: Dead Ringer**

_Giant Chasm, Unova, 12:28 PM UST_

Looker gazed over the crater with a wistful sigh, "Ah, I love the smell of _acqua santa_ and napalm in the morning, [1]" He breathed, leaning on a tall wooden frame, tinkering with a pulley around which was wrapped a wire, leading away and sloping downward toward a similar frame on a tall pillar in the forest center.

N regarded his companion with some nervousness. His nervousness was due to the fact that he was sharing a ledge with Looker, which made him a prime target if a witch decided to target them. The fact that Looker had made him wear a mauve shirt did not comfort him in the least.

"Can I seriously take this off?" He asked, picking at the Starfleet logo embroidered on the fabric.

"Only if you want the fangirls to swarm you, Ensign," Looker coolly replied.

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"It's fitting for you," Looker moved, crouching, to the precipice of the ledge, scanning the area around before looking down to see if there was a haystack down below. Disappointed that he wouldn't be able to execute a Leap of Faith here, Looker moved back, "The locals couldn't tell us anything more than _'it's down there?'_"

N shrugged, "Nobody who went down there's come back yet."

"How utterly cliché," Looker murmured dryly, turning his head to survey the landscape of forest and stone, "Do you think that I'll be able to absorb whatever she throws at me?"

"I would hope so," N answered, shrugging a second time.

Looker hummed to himself for a moment, "The ruins still stand. Are the zip-lines sturdy enough for use?"

N shrugged again, "I don't possess a hookblade, so I can't tell."

Looker grinned roguishly, "Eh, fuck it; only one way to find out."

He took a running start, and leapt.

0000000000

_No. 12, Rue de Plumet, Pallet Town, Kanto, 8:29 PM KST_

Paul glared balefully at the group that was, miraculously, still sitting in the living room, "Don't you people have jobs or something?"

A resounding "no" was the answer.

Legend had finished polishing the fifth of her twenty-seven rifles, and was currently moderating a game of "Twenty Questions," with Haro as the Answerer.

"Is it larger than a house?" Dawn asked.

_"Answer is both/neither affirmative and/nor negative."_

"Is it a warm color?" Misty asked.

_"Negative. You have one question remaining."_

It was May's turn now, and she bit her lip nervously, "Is it a boat?"

_"Negative. Subject is an Einstein-Rosen bridge."_

"Dammit!" Gary cursed loudly.

"Language," Delia scolded from the couch next to Giovanni's, "Don't make me wash your mouth out with soap!"

Paul sighed as he sat on the armrest of Giovanni's chair, a quick muttering diverting the smoke from the Rocket Boss' cigar away from him, "Why are you all still here? I already told you everything you asked."

"You didn't tell us _why_ he ran away," Misty reminded him angrily, "Or why he joined the International Police."

Paul shrugged condescendingly, "Not my tale to tell, I can only tell you part of the story."

"Then who can tell us the rest?" Brock asked.

"Legend could, but she won't, even under torture. Looker could, if he was here and you had him enough fine Venetian wine to bribe him with, but he isn't, and all the wine in the world isn't enough to match his price. And Lightning might if you asked him, but he's not here. Limit could, but he won't ever do so since he can just delete it from his memory, then reload it later. And our commander could, but he's unreachable."

May frowned, considering, "We've met Legend, and we heard Looker say something about Lightning, but who's Limit? You didn't tell us anything other than that he's an Agent."

"Vladimir Limit is one of the highest-ranking agents of the International Police," Legend answered lazily, "He has fought countless dangers, made many friends among the political, social, and economic elite, and he makes a damn good eggplant parmesan to boot!"

"That… doesn't actually tell us anything," Brock said.

"Well," Legend sniffed, "it's not _my_ fault that you're a bunch of philistines."

Paul nodded, then blinked, "Legend, did High Command airdrop your supplies? Weapons and such?"

Legend smiled wolfishly, "Of course. I've got _Jamie_ and _Tyrion_ assembled and all the ammo ready. They won't be able to strike at us again."

"Good," Paul said, lacing his fingers and resting his head on his interlocked hands, "With Looker absent and Limit delayed, we're operating at forty percent strength. If we come under attack again, we'll need to be even more serious about it and try to minimize damage. Understood?"

"Understood," She drawled, "Anything even remotely suspect comes within five miles of us, I'll put a fifty cal in its head."

Dawn seemed confused, "_Jamie_ and _Tyrion?_"

Legend grinned, "They're my babies; _Jamie_'s a fifty cal Barrett M107A1 anti-materiel sniper rifle. _Tyrion's_ a bit smaller, a .300 Winchester magnum L115A3 Long-Range Rifle. I _do_ love them so."

Paul nodded, then turned to Delia, "Once Satoshi's returned here, we can focus on forming a more coordinated defensive grid. For now, we'll have to rely on myself and Legend until the Rocket garrison arrives. How long will that be?" He asked, turning to Giovanni.

"Another week, give or take," The Rocket Boss yawned as he leaned back, "It takes time to move that much equipment."

"Good," Paul murmured, "Now, what's Limit's status?"

Legend checked AgentBook, "According to his last update, he's 'sitting around doing nothing contemplating what the fires of hell would look like.'"

"He's fine," Paul waved a hand dismissively, "And I think that's everything. What now?"

Legend leaned back, "We need to plan our next move. We've got an agent in Unova and one in Johto and one god-knows-where. We could use them to gather information."

Paul nodded, "Very well. Looker is to be extracted in three days by Sumeragi Fei Koya and Limit via a _Pelliper-_class gunship. He's currently taken a mission from the Order, but once complete, he should be able to collect information through his… usual means. Limit will be extracted via gunship in one day, so in the meantime, I'll transmit a request that he work through the night to collect data." He narrowed his eyes and focused as his irises transmuted to a glowing-webbed silver color.

Legend grinned madly, "Just don't interrupt him while he's—"

"WHOA!" Paul cried out toppling sideways onto the floor, severing his connection, "Wow, I didn't even know legs could _bend_ that way! I'm really impressed…"

Now Legend was curious, "Who was _that_?"

Paul propped himself up on his elbows, breathing heavily in shock, "I didn't get a very good look, but I think it was Jasmine."

"I always though she looked a bit more flexible than she appeared…"

Paul nodded uncomfortably as Legend helped him to his feet, "I think I'll just leave him an urgent memo on _Legion's_ system, so he can get on it when he…finishes."

Legend put a finger to her chin, "Well, he's certainly 'getting on' Jasmine."

Paul pursed his lips, "Yeah. Yeah, he is; now about Looker—"

"How'd he get into her pants anyway?" Legend bulled on, seemingly oblivious to Paul's discomfort, "I always thought she was, like, _really_ shy. I wonder…"

"Legend, I don't actually _want_ to talk about this."

"Oh. I'm sorry," She replied, unrepentant.

Paul sighed, "It's getting late. We'll send out the alerts by nine PM. Legend, set Haro on watch for the night."

Legend nodded and took the robot up under one arm, "I'll sleep in the loft, next to the rifles. I'll move over to Oak's lab tomorrow."

Paul nodded, rubbing one eye, "I think I'll read a few more chapters of _Death and You_ before turning in. What about you, Delia, Giovanni?"

Giovanni stretched and yawned, "I'm feeling particularly elderly tonight, so I think I'll turn in early."

Delia smiled, "I'll be up a bit longer to fix Silver his lunch for tomorrow, then I'll turn in too."

Paul nodded, then turned to the remaining group, "We _definitely_ don't have enough rooms for all of you."

Misty grinned, "That's okay. We're used to sleeping outside."

Paul blinked, horror dawning in his eyes, "No."

May frowned, "You can't tell us what to—"

"No means no," Paul said bluntly.

Now Max was frowning too, "That's not righ—"

"I have a seven-foot-long sword, do you really want to argue with me?"

Max took a step back, "Not really."

"Good," A thought occurred to Paul, "Where did you guys stay _last_ night?"

Brock frowned, "We… sorta camped out at Gary's place…"

Paul blinked suspiciously, "So why do you want to camp out _here_? Go back to Gary's and come back when you make more sense."

"That's… well…" Gary hummed to himself for a moment in confusion before Misty spoke up for him.

"He doesn't really want to stay there. Too many reminders of the Professor."

Paul rubbed the bridge of his nose, reciting the scripture of a long dead empire in an effort to calm himself, "Alright, fine, you can camp in the area behind the house, a ways out, but only under _my_ supervision. I'll need to arrange you to maximize defensive capabilities in the event of another attack," He narrowed glowing-silver eyes at them as he turned his head, "You _are_ competent battlers, I assume. Gym Leaders are the regions protectors, so I'll tolerate no weakness from any of you. Understand?"

Without meaning to, they sat up a little straighter, "Yes!"

He blinked, eyes returning to their usual violet, "Also, you'll need to cook for yourselves. Delia's far too busy to deal with all of you. Additionally…" He turned to Brock, "Don't you have a wedding to prepare for?"

Brock froze, mouth open, and his eyebrows rose—at least, Paul was _pretty sure_ they were eyebrows. They weren't technically above anything but still—"I have to go make a call," The Gym Leader managed to force out.

Paul nodded in satisfaction as Brock fled, "That was easy," Then he turned to Misty, "Now, Misty, I don't want to alarm you, but Looker is quite fond of Bug-Types."

The Cerulean City Gym Leader froze in place, "B-b-b-bugs, y-you say?"

"Oh yes," Paul said, scowling and nodding theatrically, "Why little Sheldon the Shedinja could be lurking behind you at this very moment…" Misty seized up, then quickly pelted out the front door of the house, impressing Paul, "Huh, I thought I'd have to break out the Shedinja mask too…" He turned to Dawn, "I think I'll let Pikachu make a nest in your hair, make it easier to control his electrical discharge. Shame about the messiness, though; you might never be able to brush out the spikes." He grunted in satisfaction as she, too, fled the house. Turning to Max and May and Gary, he snorted, "I don't suppose I have to threaten you with _your_ darkest fear for you to get the message, do I?"

Ever the braver of the three, May stepped forward, glaring, "What can you possibly do? You barely know us!"

Paul smirked, "That may be true, but I have a keen insight for deducing my enemies weaknesses. For you Max, I would exploit your deeply-buried self-doubt and the feeling you have of not being good enough. With you, Gary, I'd make use of your guilt over Ash's disappearance and your grandfather's kidnapping. And you," He turned to May, eyeing her with something bordering on contempt, "With you I'd simply tell the entire story of why Ash left in the first place."

May stiffened, glittering tears pooling at the corners of her eyes for a brief moment before she blinked them away and left the house sullenly, a confused Gary and Max following her.

Paul closed his eyes and tilted his head back, "Speaking truth while presenting an impression of what is not truth is a skill we have honed well, is it not, Legend?"

"It is," She said as she headed toward the staircase.

"Then why does it feel like lying?" Paul murmured, "I don't even _know_ the whole story anyway."

0000000000

_Giant Chasm, Unova, 1:05 PM UST_

Rocky spires towered around him, the green grass beneath his feet rustling reassuringly in the wind. Somewhere in the distance of the Giant Chasm, he heard the crack of stone and the tumble of rock as a cliff collapsed onto itself. As he gazed up at the tall pines around him, Looker wondered why his family didn't have a more normal trade, like pottery. Probably because it was considered less intense and less life-threatening by the bunch of adrenaline junkies he laughingly called his relatives.

Looker sighed wearily from his kneeling position, slightly tired by the battle that had been raging for the last two hours, as he gazed up at the hovering witch, "So much for the element of surprise. I don't suppose you'd like to negotiate?"

The girl smirked. She was probably a bit older than him, slim but well-fed, likely from the supplies she reaped from her victims, all long legs and black hair: a girl that would make most men swoon if not for the sneer plastered across her face, "Negotiate with an inferior human? I think not. People like you and, _these two_," She shook an unconscious N and Hilda in midair pointedly, "Are beneath me."

Looker blinked up at her disdainfully, "Ah! Fuck this; now I understand why the Order despises people like you," At her questioning glance, he continued, "You use the gifts given you by God for selfish ends."

"I don't need to be lectured by someone as inferior as yourself," The witch pronounced regally, "There's nothing you can do while I have your two friends as my hostages."

"You're right," He said, standing and dusting off his jacket, "Victory would be difficult in this situation, wouldn't it? That's why," He smiled maliciously, "I'm going to win."

The witch backed off fast, sure he was going to try something, but when he simply reached into his jacket, she decided it prudent to attack first. Dropping Hilda and N to the ground, she focused all her power on the Agent and hurled all he psychic power at him.

To her surprise, nothing happened, her attack passing through him as though he weren't even there, "What are you?!" She screamed.

Looker smirked as he drew a long throwing knife from his jacket, "I'm a witch hunter. Think of me as your natural predator, _strega_![2]"

With that, he let his aura unfurl, a writhing black storm of energy rising around him, adhering to his limbs like a suit of armor. As the black energy flowed across his body, Looker closed his eyes, drinking in the witch's fear as she realized who was after her, who he was.

"You're the Devil of _Venezia_," She whispered in fear, then in anger, "You're the one who killed my sister!"

He opened his eyes, twin silvery orbs glowing menacingly in the noonday sun, "Did I? I wouldn't remember. There have just been _so many_ deaths!" Unbidden, his powers rose to the forefront of his mind, shedding his morality as his hunter's blood awakened, roiling in his veins, "There'll be no mercy for you, witch, not now after you've awakened _il cacchiatore_.[3]"

With that, he charged. For any other man, it would have been folly, but shrouded by a Dark-type aura and hunter's blood as he was, it was mere child's play. As he drew near, the witch panicked, hurling splinters of stone at him as she shredded a nearby rock with her powers. Reacting, he moved so fast as to vanish from sight entirely, only to reappear behind her, hookblade extended and slashing at her neck for the kill. Wrathful at this interloper, she threw herself to the side fast enough to avoid the majority of the slash, but the blade's point carved a shallow, narrow cut across the skin of her neck.

"I'll kill you for what you did!" She snarled, splintering a fallen log and hurling the shards at him—or at least, at the place that he _had_ been.

"Better men than you have tried," He replied as he appeared in front of her, stabbing her through the hand with one of his knives. With a shift of his arm, he swung the blade down and into the ground, pinning her by her hand, "This foul errand was begun by blood," He pronounced with ceremonial finality over her now-screamed pleas for mercy, kneeling down beside her, "By blood let it be undone." He swung his hookblade, and the battle was over.

As Looker stood, removing his knife from the witch's hand, Hilda stirred and sat up, "Well, that was one hell of a fight."

"You were awake the whole time?" Looker asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"I was waiting to see if you needed backup," She replied smartly, "In case you forgot, I have hunter's blood too."

"Yes, but you're _much_ weaker than I am. By a whole fucking lot."

Hilda had always been the prettiest of the family. It might have been a bit weird for Looker, her cousin, to think so, but there was still something captivating about the clear blue of her eyes, and something in her spiraling brown hair that made Looker feel kind of creepy for noticing. She stood shakily, dusting off her denim skirt and the black jacket he'd given her for her twelfth birthday.

"The fact that I'm weaker than you is your father's fault for compounding his blood—which was already extremely strong—with that of an equally strong woman. Basically, you are the result of two of the most powerful people on the planet." She scowled in jealousy, "Why couldn't _my_ mom and dad be as strong?"

"Bad enough your brother Hilbert complains to me about this, now you have to do so as well?" Looker was at N's side in an instant, nudging him with his foot, "Hey, Natural," He snickered, "Get up."

N gradually dragged himself upright , gripping Looker's hand to haul himself up, "My name's not _that_ funny."

"It is, it really is," Looker disagreed, "Why your mother let your hippie father name you I will never understand." He sighed as he stretched out under the noonday sun, "It feels glorious to be alive and not dead like this witch! Speaking of _'which…'"_ He ignored the groans of his comrades at his lame pun as he proceeded to chop the woman's head off with a single slice of his knife, so fast as to be unseen by then naked eye, "We gotta take this head to the Lacunosa police chief. That bounty was sure worth a pretty penny, and my predecessor, Beladonis Looker, always taught me to never turn down free money for something that you've accomplished as long as it's offered and not demanded."

"Your predecessor?" N raised an eyebrow.

Looker smiled, "Back during the first Galactic uprising, seven years ago, I was just finishing my assessment to become an Agent. My mentor, the Looker that Brock Harrison and Dawn Berlitz knew, was the Agent assigned to the case at the time. He was a right old bastard, too."

"Looker, do you read TV Tropes?" Hilda asked dryly.

"Of course, why do you ask?"

"Because you're the Roguish Male to Paul's Noble Male."

Looker gave the idea some thought, then nodded, "_Che é corretto_.[4] Now let's get over to Lacunosa," Wrapping his arms around N's and Hilda's waists, he breathed in preparation, "Don't let go or you might lose an arm."

Then they were gone from sight.

0000000000

_Glitter Lighthouse, Olivine City, Johto, 9:30 PM JST_

Limit tossed a wicked grin and a wave over his shoulder to an extremely flustered Jasmine as he vaulted over the lighthouse railings, dropping a hundred and fifty feet straight down before landing with an enormous thud, cracking the pavement as he landed and knelt. Standing and dusting himself off, he nodded respectfully to the new crater in the sidewalk and straightened his coat as he walked off into the sunset. Well, he had done his damndest, and the light house windows had held all throughout the act… barely.

_'I told you I could get laid faster than you,'_ Limit One taunted.

_'Shut up, Number One! I'm off my game today!'_ Limit Two whined.

Engaging his link to _Legion_, Limit searched for anything that might have come up while he was… busy, "Huh, request from Paul to gather information on Team Galactic's movements. Might as well get on it," He paused a moment, realizing his double entendre, "Heh, _'get on it.'"_

_'Well, you certainly _'got on'_ Jasmine.'_ Limit Two added jokingly.

_'That sounds like something Legend would say.'_

Limit blinked, then decided that the only way he'd be able to fulfill Paul's request would be by going to a pub and mingling with the other consumers. And by "mingling," he meant "get roaring drunk until someone spills something worthwhile."

It was five hours, two bottles of scotch, and fifteen shots of tequila later that he found himself tailing a particularly suspicious-looking man from a peculiarly seedy bar. It wasn't that he disliked the guy, it's just that his facial-recognition scan had turned him up as a member of Team Plasma.

As his quarry turned off the mildly-lit street and into a darkened alley, Limit quickened his silent footsteps, then kicked his target in the back of the knee, sending him to the ground. Quick as lightning, he wrapped a strong arm around the man's neck, cutting off his choked cry, and slid his sword under the man's chin, the long blade sliding out and locking into place over his hand, "Make one wrong move and I'll have your head," He hissed viciously.

He slackened his grip around the grunt's neck to let him respond, "You never get away wi—AGHK!"

"I don't want to hear your posing, "Limit interrupted as he choked off the grunt's response, "I just want to know which Plasma you work for, Ghetesis' faction or N's?"

"As if I'd have anything to do with that filthy traito—URK!"

"A simple yes or no would have sufficed," Limit pressed his blade against the grunt's throat more insistently, "Well, now that I know you're an enemy, I suppose the interrogation can begin…"

So, dragging the criminal back to the hotel room that Charles had graciously offered to pay for when he'd said he was going over to Olivine City, Limit plied the information out of the suspect with threats, violence, electroshock persuasion, and the figures of the stock market from that day.

The sun rose on a new day as Limit was finishing his interrogation. The hotel room was nice enough, if not for the Plasma grunt tied to a chair by the low table. The single bed hadn't been used, and there was a reasonable probability that the hotel staff could clean up the mess, and that the grunt would recover. It wasn't like anything permanent had been done to him.

"Now, last question, I promise," Limit said to the thoroughly beaten and shocked Plasma Grunt, "How can you prove that you actually know where Charon is hiding? Have you ever seen him there?" At the grunt's nod, he narrowed his eyes, "What does Charon look like?"

The grunt twitched, "What?"

Frustrated, Limit flipped the table end over end into the other wall, "What country are you from?"

"What?"

"Do they speak English in 'What'?"

"What?!"

"ENGLISH, MOTHERFUCKER, DO YOU SPEAK IT?!" Limit roared.

"Yes!"

"Describe what Charon looks like."

"He-he's white!"

"Go on…"

"He's bald!"

"Does he look like a _bitch_?!"

"WHAT?!"

Rolling his eyes, Limit unholstered his pistol and shot the man in the shoulder, "What'd I say about saying 'what,' motherfucker?!"

It was in times of great frustration that the line between Limit One and Limit Two could blur, enabling him to simultaneously play both good cop and bad cop. Unfortunately for the grunt, he was all bad cop right now. Hooking his earpiece over his ear, he connected the call to Koya swiftly, "I need someone to come pick up a perp I'm leaving in my hotel room. Charles knows where it is, you can ask him."

_"Understood, Agent. How are things on the ground?"_

"Well enough," Limit replied, as he left his hotel room (and the unconscious Plasma grunt), "On my way out from the contest that Charles forced me into, I stumbled upon the most remarkable travel-supplies shop!"

_"Really now? What was so remarkable about it?"_

"Well, as a matter of fact, they don't often sell many traveling supplies at all; whole business never really took off, and they almost had to shut down before the owner decided to start up an… _alternative_ product line."

Koya was wary now, _"What kind of product?"_

"Well, sir, you know how Mrs. Goodshow is always complaining about how Charles is always off on business and how she never has any time alone with him anymore?" Limit asked, stepping into the elevator.

Koya didn't like where this conversation was going, but sheer morbid curiosity spurred him onward, _"Yes…"_

Limit grinned as he stepped off the elevator and into the hotel lobby, glancing at the great digital display that proclaimed the time to be _6:30 AM_, "Well, there was this one called the Devastator, and you wouldn't _believe_ all the settings it has. Give one to Mrs. Goodshow, and I guarantee she won't be missing Charles at all."

_"Limit, I have to go. I have to go bleach my brain—I mean, do important stuff vital to my sanity—I mean to the safety of the world. B-b-bye."_

_'I'm impressed,' _Limit Two said, _'You managed to make Sumeragi Fei Koya _stutter_."_

"We can make Sumeragi Fei Koya stutter, and yet we still don't understand _why_ all Pokémon attacks explode…" Limit mused as he exited the hotel, "Such are the mysteries of the universe." And so the Agent of the International Police walked off in the direction of the morning sun… until he remembered that the gunship he was supposed to catch was in the _other_ direction, at which point he turned around and walked off with the sun at his back in as dignified a manner as he could.

0000000000

_Royaux Villa, Undella Town, Unova, 10:30 PM UST_

Caitlin sighed as she looked out the window of her darkened villa bedroom, her shoes in one corner and her hat in another. Tiredness and boredom filled her as she sat down on the plush mattress. She was often filled with such thoughts in recent days. She hadn't had a decent challenge in months, and her psychic powers had been somewhat troublesome lately, giving her headaches and worsening her sleepiness. She sometimes wondered what good it was to have a gift you couldn't control. Then she cursed herself for being so selfish, so self-centered.

She was broken out of her musings by a quiet tapping sound at her window. She frowned; her bedroom was on the second floor and from her vantage point, she could see nobody on the ground. Opening her window, she leaned out, the cool sea air washing over her as she searched in vain for the source of the disturbance, "Hmm, I guess it was nothing."

"Not nothing, but thank you for opening the window for me. I would have had it in a bit," Answered a quiet, warm voice behind her.

She stiffened as a pair of arms slid under her lace cape, holding her close. She felt a puff of heated air on her ear as he pushed aside her voluminous blonde tresses to rest his chin on her shoulder. A hard, lean body pressed against her back, conforming to the delicate shape of her spine. She reached out gently with her psychic powers and felt nothing, bringing a small smile to her face. It was him, one of the only people she could never read, never dominate.

"I was surprised to see you awake at so late an hour," Looker breathed across her ear, "_Una signora_ like you needs her rest. [5]"

She slipped a dainty hand between his two where they were clasped around her waist, reveling in his life, his warmth, "I… I couldn't sleep," She managed, "I was… musing."

She leaned back against him as he brought a hand—the left one, she thought—to caress the pale skin at her neck, ghosting over her as though afraid she would break at the slightest of touches. Lacing his hand with her own, she grasped it with almost as much gentleness as he. He was always gentle with her, had been ever since their second meeting. His right hand slid up her flat stomach, looping a finger around the tie to her long white blouse and tugging in equal measures of patience and insistence. As the garment came loose, he slid it off of supple shoulders and let it fall to the ground.

"It's been a while since you last visited me," Caitlin managed to murmur, "Here I've been, the maiden languishing in her tower, while you and your comrades go gallivanting around the world, saving damsels and fighting evil as you go. Are you sure you haven't found a more comely girl?"

Looker grinned against her neck, "The day I find a more comely _woman_ than yourself, dear Caitlin, is the day that Paul admits he is capable of smiling." He pressed another kiss to her neck as he caressed the length of her arm with the fingers of his left hand, the sensation of his touch searing her as though he were fire made flesh.

"Oh Kyurem Above, Leonardo! It's been too long, so long I'd almost forgotten how—ah!" She gasped, open-mouthed and shuddering, soft pink lips parting in a desperate intake of breath as he dragged his right hand up her abdomen to cup her breast, his thumb kneading at her soft skin through the fabric of her gown.

"I have missed you very much, dearest Caitlin," He whispered almost reverently as he undid the silk cape around her neck and let it fall forgotten to the ground.

"Show me, then," She breathed back, barely daring to whisper in the darkened room.

By the time she managed to drag in a breath, his nimble fingers were unlacing the back of her wine-colored evening gown and his warm mouth and sharp teeth were at her neck, making every moment one of blissful anguish. She cooed in slight dismay when he needed to remove his hand from her breast, but whimpered earnestly when it returned, this time caressing her nipple through the dark red silk of her dress. Her eyes, of that breathtakingly clear and vibrant blue, met Looker's own, steely-blue and glinting mischievously as he continued to kiss and suck and nibble and bite at her fragile neck.

"Oh I will, Caitlin," He murmured against her pale skin as he finished unlacing her dress, "I will show you."

His jacket was the first thing that hit the floor as he tugged apart the back of her gown. Looker embraced her, pressing against her with eyes bright silver, pouring all his want and need across the connection they had, both of mind and body.

They'd never had a normal relationship; nor would they ever. Theirs was a strange balance, she cool and dispassionate, a young woman bored with the world, he mirthful and fiery and almost searing with passion, for life, for his world, for _her_. She considered him, mulling over his personality even as he slid part of her gown off her shoulder, pressing his lips against hers. He was a paradox unto himself. It seemed unkind to think of him as such, but it was the truth. He was always so calm, so contained, yet beneath that exterior raged a hurricane of emotion, a storm in a bottle. She giggled softly—an uncommon occurrence—at her poetic inanities, but she couldn't help it. Logic just didn't apply to this man.

His dichotomy didn't end there, of course. He was kind to his family and cruel to those who hurt them. He would linger and worry and fret over the slightest of injuries she may have sustained, but would rip and tear apart any who caused it. He could be her roguish lover one moment and her knight in shining armor the next. He loved her, and that mattered most.

Looker paused his ministrations as he read Caitlin's thoughts, then gathered her more closely in his arms, "I _do_ love you, Caitlin. Can you feel it?"

With her powers, with the darkness that enshrouded him dissolved, she could. Like the dreamsmoke she sometimes used to help her fall asleep, it was intense and powerful and almost overwhelming. She knew how much he loved her, little selfish girl that she was, and knew what kind of dangers he threw himself into. She knew how severely he could be hurt, still remembered that day that he'd collapsed across her doorstep, blood weeping from near a dozen gashes. She still remembered holding him and sobbing against his chest, fingers twisted in the tough fabric of his jacket, her dress and cheeks and hands and hair stained red with his blood, still remembered his eyes—blue like hers, but darker—locking with hers, filled with so much fear and desperation that it hurt to remember. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes as she tossed her head, hair clinging to her shoulders and neck and back, sticky from Looker's kisses and damp with a sweat that had absolutely nothing to do with the temperature.

He blinked as he felt her self-loathing and guilt wash over them both and his arms tightened around her, holding her so close she could feel his soothing heartbeat hammering against her back, "Don't ever think that, Caitlin," He told her as he pulled down the other side of her gown, his deft fingers leaving a trail of heat along the curve of her collarbone as he pressed his lips to it, "Don't ever think that I don't know what danger I go into. Don't ever think I regret a single wound or scar. Don't _ever_ believe that any of my blood is on your hands."

She nodded, leaning back against his hard frame as he worshipped her other shoulder, "How is it you can love me, Leonardo?" At his confusion, she let a few tears spill over, "I can sense the truth in everybody, the awful truth. I know I'm not normal, and I act selfishly though I don't mean to. So please," She turned away from him.

"Hey," It was him again: her shining knight. She felt his two fingers under her chin, lifting her head and turning it toward him, "I love you. That's all that matters."

He turned his head and kissed her deeply. Half-turning, she kissed back just as heavily, her hands bunching in his white hooded shirt with need and want. She was dazed and drunk on his aroma, chamomile and cardamom. When she unzipped his shirt around the strange insignia on his chest and cast it aside, she ran her hands over the dozen or so scars across his torso, the reminders of battles fought and battles won. He kissed her again, eyes alight with emotion as he slid her gown off her shoulders, letting the silk fabric pool around her delicate feet, leaving her in naught but her undergarments, lacy things of silk, colored a navy blue as dark as the night sky.

Their first meeting had not gone well; in fact, it had been disastrous. Few relationships were prefaced by several attempts to kill each other, despite Pokéwood's desperate attempts to persuade people to the contrary. The fact that they were even able to function around each other was a miracle in and of itself.

She would have mused a bit more, but Looker's sharp bite to her ear shattered every last sliver of concentration she had as she threw her head back in a shocked gasp, every synapse and nerve aflame with sensation. He released her ear as she turned her head back toward him and captured her lips with her own, kissing her deeper, harder than he had before as he fumbled with the clip to her brassiere.

"Stupid, damn contraption," He muttered in one quick moment as she drew back for breath.

He kissed her again, hungrily, and she felt a slight _give_ as he succeeded and cast away the most hated form of underclothing he would ever lay eyes on. She drew a shuddering breath as he rolled the pointed nub of one nipple between his left thumb and forefinger, heat pouring off his hand, the one at her breast and the one sliding down her flat stomach.

She exhaled as he slid his hand under the fabric of her panties, finding her wet with arousal beneath his fingers. She groaned and tossed her head back as he slid one finger inside her and reached back herself, slipping her own hand down the iron-hard flat of his stomach to glide beneath his waist, finding him hard and ready. He gasped as she stroked him with one long forefinger and she smiled slightly in the triumph of breaking his composure. That triumph was short lived as he crooked another finger inside her, giving her cause to press back against him, pinning her hand against his groin and pressing insistently.

"Are you sure you want to play this game, Caitlin?" Looker murmured huskily, crooking his fingers again and sending a startled mewl sprawling from her lips.

She ran her fingers up and down, earning a surprised groan from the man behind her, the man who had heated her up to such heights of bliss, "I am a woman in my own right, Leonardo," She managed to say, "I've been playing this game as long as you."

"I know that," Looker insisted in as level a voice he could force out, the strained effort obvious in his tone, "But you've already got your whole hand around my cock, whereas I—" He dug his fingers in a little deeper, drawing yet another gasp from her, "Have yet to use to three of my five fingers."

He withdrew his fingers, sticky now with her arousal, and she watched as he slowly, languidly brought them up to his lips, licking each digit clean individually, sucking on his littlest finger before gradually freeing it with an audible pop. He was teasing her, taunting her, and it only aroused her even further. She squirmed against him futilely, but getting a strangled groan out of him as she rubbed against his groin.

"Leonardo," She half-moaned, half-whimpered, "Please…"

He growled low beside her ear, voice almost dripping with need, "Damn it all, Caitlin. You always did know how to rile me up."

He undid his belt with haste as she bent slightly to discard her underwear. Fast as usual, his lips were at hers by the time she stood straight again and he pressed her back against her own bedroom wall hard, one hand lifting her leg up around his hip, the other tangling roughly in her hair as his kissed her insistently. He rubbed against her frustratingly, giving her little shocks and jolts of pleasure but not enough to satisfy. She took the game into her own hands, hands looping around his neck and shoulders as she too rubbed herself against him, earning herself a series of groans and gasps, sending the hand in her hair raking along the length of her spine, leaving searing lines down her back. She squealed softly at that, and for Looker, the sound of her voice alone was overwhelming. He groaned once against her lips, then whirled and tumbled her to the bed, blond hair running around her like rivers of liquid gold as he _thrust_.

The world seemed to shatter when Looker entered her. Caitlin arched her back and let out a soft keening sound, one hand fisting in the covers of her bed, the other gripping Looker's forearm, nails digging into his skin as she pulled herself halfway up, feeling she'd almost die if he stopped. She buried her head in the curved of his shoulder, hair spilling about her like sunlight given form. It was so good, so raw, so primal. She lost her breath as he kissed her, his sudden shift hitting something inside her that sent heat cascading through her body. The world narrowed to what was around her, the pleasure she felt within, the lips pressed against her own, and the _heat_, searing her so wondrously that she could have been set on fire and wouldn't have noticed.

Her gasps and squeaks and moans were broken when the heat reached its peak, when he leaned forward again and hit that burning ache _just right_, setting lines of wildfire running through her as she screamed a name, his name, and she felt every muscles in her body tighten around him as she clung to him tightly; nothing else mattered, nothing else _existed_ but the liquid fire coursing through her form.

He could not hold on long after that, his release sudden and intense as he drew a shuddering breath and nearly howled as he made one last, forceful thrust, leaving trails of searing-hot nerves in his wake as he flooded her with that same heat of his body. He fell across her, red in the face and wincing slightly at the welts her nails had left in his arm, gasping and huffing as he struggled to piece together his broken snark and composure. She too fell against the bed, utterly spent as she lay back, flushed and radiant, stroking his hair as she drew heavy breaths of fresh air into the burning lungs of a body overloaded with sensation.

Looker managed to prop himself up on his forearms, withdrawing from her and leaving her cooing in contentment as he crawl up onto the bed with her, pulling and maneuvering her under the covers as she curled up slightly, drawing her legs up beneath her as she traced the scars on his chest.

"Leonardo?" Caitlin murmured tiredly, already feeling sleep tug at her consciousness.

"Hmm?" He turned toward her, lacing his fingers with hers.

"Promise me you'll always come back alive."

His eyes, those blue, blue eyes, searched her own and he nodded, "I promise you," He murmured, leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to her brow, "Now and always…"

0000000000

_No. 12, Rue de Plumet, Pallet Town, Kanto, 8:37 AM KST_

Legend sat back as she finished her daily maintenance on her rifles. Tired and satisfied with her work, she sat back and sighed with a bottle of bourbon in one hand and an oil-stained rag in the other. The loft of Delia's house had a decent command of the surrounding areas, with few houses rising high enough to disrupt her aim significantly. She would have preferred setting up at the top of Oak's windmill, but it was too far from the house for the benefit of the additional height to outweigh the detriment of delayed action.

The loft was more analogous to a miniature four-sided gazebo set atop Delia's house, accessible only via a ladder that led up from a utility closet on the second floor, making Delia's house the tallest in the area. Legend had set up a sort of mobile sniper's nest in the loft, with _Tyrion_ covering the path into Pallet Town and _Jaime_ the sea route to the South. The arrangement made sense, to use the .300 Winchester covering the route most likely used by infantry and the 50 cal Barrett covering the route most likely used by materiel forces. Besides, in the event that she needed to, she could easily move either of the rifles to fire on the enemy. If she didn't need to aim carefully, she could fire one with each hand, or if she did, set Haro to controlling one while she manned the other.

It was the knock on the trapdoor that drew her out of her musings, "What do you want, Dawn?" She asked, unlatching the hatch's deadbolt without looking up from the latest issue of _Rifles Monthly_.

As the blue-haired girl came up from the house, she seemed pensive, "How did you know it was me?"

Legend looked up from her reading, eyes flashing from storm grey to bright silver, "I evaluated the sound wave caused by your knock and after using wave propagation analysis, determined the force with which you knocked. Noting the fact that males tend to use the bottom of their fist when knocking in nervousness, as evidenced by the slight discrepancy in the rhythm of your knocks, I determined that the knocker must be female. And judging by the slight scuffing sound I heard as you ascended the ladder, I was able to recognize the same sound that the soles of your boots had made before. Since there was no inconsistency in the footsteps, indicating that you were comfortable with the shoes, it was a reasonable assumption that it was you, and not May or Misty wearing your boots."

Dawn stared at her, wide-eyed, "Wow. How'd you do that?"

Legend gave a bark of laughter, "Call it a gift."

She didn't need to mention the fact that Haro had come to the same conclusion as she had and could have confirmed her deduction if she'd needed him to. Nor that she could have simply checked the security cameras posted in and around the house if she'd needed to. She didn't need to, of course. She had her gift.

"Gift?" Dawn asked, perplexed.

"Something like that," Legend admitted, "We all have one, each of which segregated us to our various focuses of combat. With my ability, I'm much more adept at long-range combat than any of the others, which is why I was designated as the team sniper. Looker is our close-combat fighter—Limit too sometimes—Paul the heavy assault expert, and Lightning acts as our mid-range support."

Dawn fidgeted a bit, "Do you have something else I can call you by? If you're ok with it, of course!"

Legend chuckled, "Nah, it's been my name for a while. It makes me feel much too close to my bitch of a sister."

"You don't get along?" Dawn asked sympathetically.

"Nah, too much alike, so my dad said anyway. Of course, that was before his GN Cannon exploded and killed him, so now he'd probably say something like _'you could change… I couldn't so you'll have to do it for me…'_"

"I see," Dawn bit her lip, "I—"

"I know why you're here, or rather, why May sent you here," Legend said dully, tossing Haro high into the air and catching him again and again as the little robot beeped in glee, "Haro's monitoring the surrounding area, so I heard your early morning conversation," She ceased moving and let Haro fall into her hand with a _smack_, "It wasn't her fault that he left; not the way that Paul and Looker think of it. Ash told me that part of his tale, entrusted it to me, and me alone, to keep… She's not a bad girl, and she wasn't entirely to blame. Half the blame lay with Ash, and he knew that, he told me so. He didn't return because… Lugia Below, I'm not sure you'd understand. It's like he had this obligation to help people, this self-imposed quest. Maybe that's what killed him in the end: altruism…

"I'm afraid I can't tell you anything. Why he joined Interpol, what he did during his service, why we were in Orre, what he said at the end, where he is now, nothing… All I can tell you was that he… he was magnificent. In a fight you could hardly believe your eyes how fast he was, how agile. Looker's been fighting his whole life, and even he was impressed with Ash's… ferocity. It was like watching a dragon in battle, just…" She trailed off, eyes alive with light and memory.

"Sounds like you really liked him," Dawn observed quietly, filing away what Legend said about may for further investigation; she was going to find out what happened to her mentor, the first boy she'd ever loved, if it killed her.

Legend's mouth curled into a mirthful grin, "He'll always have a place in my heart, yes," She replied, "But I've had my eyes set on someone else for a long time."

Dawn was in her element now as her face split into a grin, "Who's that?"

"I'm not saying," Legend laughed, "That would be telling," She blinked wistfully, "I suppose it was a foregone conclusion, but still…"

Dawn nodded in understanding, "I get it. I know how you feel. There was a boy I liked when I was younger—"

"Ash," Legend said dryly, "It was Ash. It's always Ash."

Dawn blushed at legend's curt summation, "H-how did you—"

"If you knew how many times I'd had to fend off one rabid fangirl or another, you wouldn't ask that question. As it is, the things they wanted to do to him. The horror, oh the horror…" Legend shuddered, "It was mortifying. Never was the same after all of that. Wherever Ash is now, I hope there aren't any fangirls with him."

"And Satoshi?"

"Ah! The kid, adorable one, that," Legend smiled, "Dead ringer for his daddy, too," She blinked hard and squirmed uncomfortably, muttering under her breath, "Ho-Oh Above, who _writes_ this bullshit?"

Luckily for her, Dawn didn't hear that last part, "Did Ash ever tell you who his mother was?"

Legend drew breath, as if to speak, but stopped and pursed her lips, "He didn't."

Dawn blinked with something resembling sadness, then stood, brushing off her miniskirt, "Well, I won't hold you any longer, Ms. Legend—"

"Courtney," Legend said suddenly, "You can call me Courtney; if you want. Used to be an admin with Team Magma, but I jumped ship after Maxie went off the deep end. Threw my lot in with Interpol and joined Ash's team. Been friends with Looker and Paul ever since."

Dawn smiled, "'Kay then, Courtney," A thought occurred to her and she frowned, "What was Ash's codename?"

Legend paused, then smiled, "That's a story for another time. I might tell you one day, but not today…"

Dawn took the answer philosophically and went back down the trapdoor. As her footsteps retreated from Legend's hearing the Agent smiled and raised her bottle to the morning sun, "Wherever the hell you are, Ash, I hope you're free. You've earned that much."

0000000000

_221B Solomon St., Nimbasa City, Unova, 4:41 AM UST_

Hilbert Castle woke with his senses ringing in alarm and his hunter's blood singing a song of death. In the following two-point-five seconds, he did three things. First, he analyzed his position and his immediate surroundings. He was lying on his bed, the blankets pushed haphazardly to the foot of the mattress. The door lay off to his right, with a bedside table littered with the debris of a hundred emptied pockets situated between the two. His left arm was pinned beneath a sleeping Satoshi, while his right remained completely free. Second, he analyzed any possible dangers. Noises in the hall, and downstairs as well. Two, possibly three. He motioned to Serperior, who had already awakened. The great serpent nodded, then slithered as quietly as he could to loop around the door frame, positioned perfectly to slip out or aid Hilbert when needed. Third and lastly, he took a deep breath and readied himself for what he was about to do.

He followed his first instinct and threw himself sideways across his queen-sized bed, wrapping Satoshi with his left arm and scooping up the pistol he left between the two pillows with his right hand as he rolled off the other side of the bed as the door flew open. Aiming without really seeing, Hilbert had put four silenced incendiary bullets in the Plasma grunt's chest before she'd even had time to raise her own gun. This was no suppressed gun either. The Order had figured out the secret to true silencers long since, a secret only sold to individual militaries for a high price, the International Police being one of them.

Blindingly fast, Serperior slipped out the door in a flash of green. A startled choking sound and a spatter of blood, and Hilbert knew that there would be no trouble from the second Plasma agent. Holding an awakened and frightened Satoshi close, he slowly inched around to corner and down the stairs to survey the scene. Serperior lay coiled on the ground, doing his damndest to be inconspicuous. It wouldn't have worked very well if anyone had tried to look for him, seeing as his mouth was still dripping blood from when he'd ripped the Plasma grunt's throat out halfway down the stairs. Hilbert nodded to his, patting the Regal Pokémon on the head before shifting Satoshi a bit higher on his chest, the boy now fully aware and watching for any danger. The last one was going through his kitchen. _'Typical,'_ He thought, _'She sends her two grunts up to do her dirty work while she steals all my food. Damn bitch.'_ He flicked his wrist, deploying his own hookblade, similar in design to Looker's; he wouldn't forgive this. First she'd tried to have him killed, along with Satoshi, and now she was _eating his food?!_ Dropping Satoshi in Serperior's cushioning coils, he motioned for the two to be silent, then simply walked out into his living room.

"Morning," He said conversationally.

The Plasma woman turned to him startled, her open-mouthed shock evident even through her face mask. He'd never really liked the ninja-uniforms they'd instituted since he'd kicked Ghetesis' ass a few years back, "What are you doing still alive?!"

Hilbert didn't take the time to respond. His hunter's blood was awake and humming with bloodlust. He wasn't near as fast as Looker, but he was a damned sight faster than the Plasma woman when she drew her pistol. By the time her weapon was unholstered, he'd already wended his way around the counter and snatched up a knife he'd left on the counter the previous evening. By the time she'd brought the gun to bear on his previous position, he was already past her guard, hookblade flashing out to knock the firearm from her hand. She was clearly a novice—she hadn't even had her weapon out—but she was here to kill either him or Satoshi. He wasn't about to let that happen. He stabbed the knife through her right hand, her weapon hand, and slammed her to the ground, slamming the length of the blade that protruded out the back of her hand into one of his wooden cupboards, pinning her in a sitting position and dislodging her mask.

Ignoring her cry of pain, he stood, moving across the kitchen to the small drawer where he kept paper and pens. He took out a sheet and put a pen to his lips in thought, "This location is compromised. I'll need to get Satoshi out of here, probably to an Order bunker." He wrote a quick note to Looker explaining his plan in a code language that only they knew, then grabbed another knife from his drawer and approached his captive. The grunt was red-haired and might have been pretty if not for the rage and hatred etched into her face, "I'll only ask you once: why did you come here?" At the defiance in her eyes, he interrupted her before she could speak, "Don't think I won't hesitate to… _convince_ you to tell me. I filled one of your agents with a clip of incendiaries and my Serperior tore out the other one's throat. I won't balk at torture. My father taught me one that was good for getting information because the subject has complete control over when it stops. I take your hand—your good hand—" He gripped her left hand forcefully and splayed her fingers on the ground, "And each time you refuse to answer my questions, I take off one joint of your fingers. I like to start with the littlest finger, because it causes unimaginable pain, while still letting the subject call it off while the more, ah, _critical_ digits are still intact." He deployed his hookblade, "Why did you come here? Answer me and I'll make your death a quick one."

She looked him in the eye, glaring boldly, then looked at his blade, poised over her hand carefully, then again at his remorseless eyes, "We were ordered by our great leader—"

"Spare me your bullshit about how _great_ Ghetesis is. I kicked his ass and that's that."

She snarled, "I don't see why he sent us to take care of you! You're nothing compared to our glorious leader. We will liberate the Pokémon you so cruelly oppress and—"

Hilbert didn't wait for her to finish her sentence and stabbed her in the chest, just above the left breast and through the heart, pinning the note to her body. She drew a ragged breath as she fell unconscious. She would be in no pain, and brain death would occur within minutes. Hilbert growled angrily as he went back to the stairwell, picking up Satoshi as Serperior surveyed the place for any damage. They couldn't stay. Ghetesis knew where he lived, and he wouldn't be able to come back until all of Team Plasma was dead or disbanded. At least they didn't know about Satoshi

He whipped out his videophone and dialed an old friend. He was going to pay for this. After the eighth ring, a bleary, tired, unfocused face filled the screen. Hilbert honestly thought that no one ever imagined Elesa like this: cranky, tired, and pretty as hell, "Elesa." He murmured.

"Hilbert?! What the hell are you calling me for at this hour?! Do you know what time it is?!" She half-screamed at him.

"I was just attacked in my own home, Elesa."

That managed to calm her, though she still struggled to rub the sleep from her eyes, "You gotta be kidding. Someone was dumb enough to attack _you_?"

"Three people actually," Hilbert replied, "I have to leave the house for a while. Can you make sure nobody disturbs it until Looker gets here?"

Elesa rolled her eyes, "Fine, I'll do it now, just lemme sleep…" She punched out a short message to the police and hit her pillow as soon as she was done.

He nodded, and she was asleep before he hung up, "That's done, then," He murmured, noticing that Satoshi was asleep against his shoulder. He held the boy more securely and turned toward the front door. They hadn't come in through there, so where— "Ah, the skylight," He looked up, seeing where the glass pane set in the ceiling above the front door had been pried open, "I thought I'd had that issue fixed. Tch, no one's perfect I guess," Looking over his shoulder, he called out, "Let's go Serperior. I want to be at the bunker by the time the sun comes up." The snake attended him, and they dashed out the front door as though Darkrai himself were after them.

0000000000

_Royaux Villa, Undella Town, Unova, 6:24 AM UST_

She was naked when she awoke, warm under the heavy covers of her own bed. She raised her head and pulled herself upright, hair falling across her bare shoulders and back pillow like liquid gold, sticking in damp curls around her neck and her upper back where they'd been soaked by Looker's kisses or her sweat, and felt the stickiness of Looker's seed where it had leaked out between her legs. She saw Looker already awake, pulling his pants on. He turned slightly as she stirred, grinning impishly at her luminescent blush when she realized that the sheet had fallen from her chest when she'd sat up, baring her breasts to the morning air and his gaze. Bunching the covers to her neck in a sudden display of modesty, she let out a tiny squeak that only widened his smile. That damn smile, the one that could melt through the icy walls she'd built around herself like they were nothing.

"_Mi dispiace_, [6]" he murmured softly, sliding an arm through his shirt sleeves and zipping it up around the emblem of his order, "I didn't mean to wake you."

She blinked at him, slightly reproachful, "Were you just going to leave the woman you'd so lovingly bedded? Without even a note?"

His eyes were warm when he leaned down to kiss her, one hand toying with her hair as the other tossed his jacket over his shoulders in that sexy way of his that deepened her blush, tingeing the tops of her breasts a rosy pink, "Of course not; I would have dressed, _then_ woken you," His smile dimmed a bit, "I'm afraid I have to go. I got an alert from Elesa that something had happened in Nimbasa with my cousin, but that he's safe. _Mi dispiace_," he apologized again, "I might not see you for a bit. Things back at Pallet have been getting pretty crazy with old Brock getting married."

"Brock?" Caitlin frowned slightly, "Brock Harrison? The one Lucy's marrying?"

Looker blinked, "_Sí_, how did you know?"

"I'm invited to her wedding, obviously. We were friends when I acted as the Castle Maiden, before I… lost control," Caitlin answered, moving one hand to hold Looker's in her own, "Knowing Lucy's fiancé, that wedding will probably be a nexus for trouble."

Dawning realization seemed to break across Looker's face, "And information," He breathed, "Elites from all over the world will be there. It'll be one of the most secure locations on the planet, and simultaneously a hotbed of farmable info and chaos."

"Chaos?" Caitlin asked softly.

Looker grinned, "With so many different people, conflict is bound to crop up from time to time," He donned his jacket and sighed, "I have to go now. I need to retrieve Satoshi from wherever Hilbert's taken him and then catch a _Pelliper_ gunship back to Kanto with Limit," He seized her with uncharacteristic roughness and pressed a searing kiss to her lips—the heat of his mouth hotter than the heat on her cheeks and breasts—hands tangled in her hair, "Goodbye, Caitlin. When next we cross paths, I'll sing you a song to remember, _te lo prometto_. [7]"

He took a step back, closed his eyes, and flew through her open window. She sighed as she fell back onto her pillow, still exhausted from the previous night's exertions. She thought about going back to sleep, but a fleeting thought of Looker's grin dispelled any such thoughts. She slid out of her great bed as gracefully and gently as she could, not wanting her legs to collapse beneath her, and tugged on a robe the color of lapis lazuli; he'd always told her how beautiful she looked in blue, how it drew out the blue in her eyes. As she finished tying the knot around her waist, she heard a knock at her door.

"Come in," She called.

Her valet Darach, black-haired and dressed formally, opened the door slightly and leaned in, "My Lady, breakfast is ready."

"Thank you, Darach," She replied primly, the reserved Caitlin of old once again, "Cynthia plans to depart tomorrow, correct?"

"Indeed, My lady," Darach replied, raising an eyebrow in question and pushing his glasses a little farther up the bridge of his nose. It was unlike Lady Caitlin to forget such things, or to ask after them for confirmation.

She nodded, "Pack my things, Darach. I'll be going to Lucy's wedding a little sooner than I thought. We leave tomorrow."

Darach nodded formally, but still had to ask, "May I ask what triggered this change of plans?"

Caitlin looked out the window with something resembling an expression of longing, "A visit… a visit from someone very important to me."

Darach merely nodded, "As you say, My Lady. I'll have the servants finish the packing by midevening."

"Thank you."

0000000000

Pelliper_-class Gunship, Registry EE010-IP, En-Route to Unova, 9:39 AM UST_

Limit groaned blearily as he stirred from his nap. Going over twenty-four hours without sleep was easy for him, but even he needed to get some rest in every now and then. He sat upright from his leaning position as he looked around the cabin. It was simplistic, as he'd come to expect from the Interpol's vehicles, all smooth grey walls and reasonably comfortable leather chairs, with either side of the cabin functioning as a blast door both to allow troops to disembark and to protect them from antiaircraft fire. There were six of them, four in the rear of the cabin, toward the tail of the gunship, and two toward the front, with a small doorway one either side of them. It was across these two that Koya had draped himself, while Limit had slept across the four aft-side seats.

"What've I missed?" Limit grunted, seeing that the cabin's holographic projectors had already been activated.

Koya blinked and waved a hand, causing a three-dimensional topographic layout of the Unova region to materialize, "At approximately 4:45 AM Unova Standard Time, the resident of one Hilbert Castle was invaded by three agents of Team Plasma."

Limit stiffened, "Satoshi—"

"Is perfectly safe," Koya bulled on, "Hilbert repelled the attack and took the boy to an undisclosed location. He left a note pinned to one of the bodies, but it's in some sort of code we don't have time to crack. Looker's on his way now and will send us the location once he decodes the letter, said it's a secret language they made up as kids."

"Right," Limit nodded, quieting some, "Good. Then we'll rendezvous with him at the location he designates?"

"Obviously," Koya said, "Likely an Order safehouse or bunker. Looker, with all his phenomenal speed, will get there first and retrieve Satoshi and Hilbert, if he wishes to join us."

"Understood," Limit murmured, "What of the situation in Pallet Town?"

"Looker's determined that the best way to gather information would be a Brock Harrison's wedding. Gym Leaders and Elites from around the world will be in attendance, and all of them will be receiving information from their proxies back home. As such, your team is being rotated off the Pallet bombing investigation and being reassigned as information management at Pewter City."

"Seems like a cushy job," Limit grunted, "Too cushy. Why so easy?"

"Because the author wants to speed this along and this was the best way he could think of," Koya replied, sipping from a cup of tea that hadn't been there before, "He's really rather awful."

"I hate him," Limit declared.

"Me too!" Yelled the pilots from the cockpit.

"So we've all decided that we hate Cortega? Good, fuck that guy," Koya said, "Now on to things that matter: we're out of earl grey tea and hair gel back at headquarters. Relay the request for more tea to our suppliers and the hair gel order to my metrosexual second cousin Sergio. He can get us all the hair gel we need."

Limit nodded, "Legend has been complaining that her supply is running low. How else will she maintain those unusually stable side-bangs?"

Koya blanched, "I'll put in the order immediately."

0000000000

_Nimbasa City, Unova, 10:21 AM UST_

Looker landed beside the policeman standing guard at Hilbert's door with a thud, startling the young man.

"You! Who are you? Identify yourself!"

"Maybe you should have asked that _before_ I relieved you of your weapon, badge, hat, and wallet," Looker commented idly, juggling the aforementioned items.

The policeman wailed in anguish, almost sobbing, "I'm sorry! Please don't kill me!"

Looker sighed, "I really hope the other officers aren't like you. No wonder Unova's fucked…" He handed the other man back his effects, then displayed his own badge, "I am Agent Salacastern Looker of the International Police, and you _will_ let me pass, _stronzo_."

The inside was a mess. Hilbert had obviously left immediately and not bothered to set right all his scattered possessions. Looker's hands drifted across this object and that, black energy tugging at his fingers. Here a rifle on the floor, dropped by one Plasma agent when his throat had been torn open, there a half-dozen bullet casings, laying by Hilbert's bed where they'd been spent when he'd killed the first grunt. All this Looker learned through his aura.

The dark aura was neither good nor evil; it simply _was_. The dark embodied dreams and thoughts and memories. Darkness was the absence of light. Things that went unsaid and unseen and unheard were darkness: a significant look, a subtle nod, a whispered word, all darkness. Light was obvious; even the blind can tell where there is light. But dark was subtle. Dark was the things that one kept to oneself.

And yet, with his dark aura, Looker could feel the memories in the objects around him, in the door when it had been flung open by the enemy, in the casings, when they had been spent and ejected, and in the knife, as it had cut through the young woman's heart. Looker had come full circle through the house, back to the kitchen, where the Plasma woman lay dead, pinned to a cabinet by one knife and pinned with a note by the other. The decoding was swift: just a set of coordinates, but one Looker knew well.

He opened his direct line to Koya swiftly with his earpiece, "Old man, it's me. I've got the location." He gave the location in a doubly encrypted form, using a seemingly nonsensical combination of numbers and letters that made sense only when translated by a top-clearance agent.

From Nimbasa he traveled south, forgoing the dubious comfort of Route 4 for the harsh winds and sands of the empty desert. Listing slightly eastward, he made good time on his way to the designated location, evading the wildlife where he could, mercilessly defeating them when he couldn't. At last he came upon a high dune in a particularly nondescript area of the desert. Once he'd made his ascent and slid down the other side, he turned toward the thick steel door set in the back of a cleft in the sands. Giving his retinal and voice recognition, he gained access to the first room of the bunker. Therein he found the guards.

"Brycen, Koga, you're here?" He asked quietly.

The nearer of the two, former Pokéwood star and Gym Leader Brycen of Icirrus City, stepped forward in a combat-ready stance, "Indeed, High Master. Koga was on break from the Indigo League when the alert came down, and I brought myself here as well."

The ninja Koga stepped forward next, scarf fluttering behind him in the bunker's artificial breeze, "Illusions and technology could provide a spy access to the bunker with your appearance. To verify your identity, we must test the only thing an imposter cannot fake." His eyes narrowed and he and Brycen surged forward at nearly inhuman speeds, each readying a strike.

Looker smirked, unsheathing his hookblades, "Let's dance, _i miei fratelli_. [8]"

He blocked Koga's first kunai as the ninja tried to stab him in the ribs, and deflected Brycen's flat-palmed jab away from his ribcage with his gauntleted left arm. Catching Koga by one of his bootstraps, Looker slid under and through the split of Koga's legs, flipping the ninja end over end. As Brycen readied his next strike, Looker reversed direction, swinging his hookblade swiftly, ferociously. Brycen had little time to react and was barely able to fend off Looker's blow as Looker held his other blade to Koga's throat.

"That's enough, the battle's been decided."

Brycen and Koga disengaged, still facing Looker, turned away from the new voice, "Is that your judgment, Master Hilbert?"

"It is," Hilbert Castle replied, "I know my cousin's style of speed and combat anywhere, and he is one of the few Masters or High Masters to wield a pair of hookblades, and the only one to achieve grand mastery with them besides Grand Master Castello."

Looker nodded, "I've come for Satoshi. The gunship will be here in a few hours. And you," He looked Hilbert in the eye, "I think you should come as well. It wouldn't hurt to have backup that I trust."

Hilbert grinned easily, "Running around with you, blowing shit up? I've got your back. Before we go," He reached over his shoulder and withdrew a long object from his backpack, tossing it to Looker, "You said you'd be needing this, before you left for Lacunosa. Here it is."

Looker clasped the sheath reverently, "The Sword of Cyrian of Ash, the Timethief, Hand of the King to King Ashura ." He gripped the hilt of the sword and drew it in one swift motion, the sword's blade almost glowing a sapphire blue.

"It's yours by right and act, Leonardo," Hilbert said, "Use it well."

Looker nodded, then bowed his head, "_Grazie_ Hilbert."

His cousin smiled, "You've earned it Looker, for better or for worse."

"For better, I hope."

Hilbert pulled him into a rough embrace, thumping him on the back before pulling away to pick up Satoshi. Then he frowned, "You smell like orchids.

Looker blinked guiltily, then mustered up his most nonchalant manner, "Orchids? What are you talking about?"

"You saw Caitlin, didn't you?" Hilbert smirked knowingly.

Looker reddened in embarrassment, _"Vai a farti fottere!"_ [9] Then he sighed, _"Se è la briga di tradurre questo, probabilmente avete troppo tempo sulle vostre mani…" _[10]

Somewhere, deep within the recesses of Looker's psyche, Libido chuckled quietly. Bound in chains and weighted down, guarded by Honor, Discipline, and Propriety night and day, Libido knew the day would come when he would slip his bonds and take the throne in Looker's mind once more. It was inevitable; for on that day, when the dragon called Lust was woken, when it battered the white knight called Reason into exhaustion, then would one link give, and Libido would be free once more, it was inevitable. Libido laughed long and loud, because Libido had won, and Libido would always win.

0000000000

_No. 12, Rue de Plumet, Pallet Town, Kanto, 9:24 PM KST_

Paul had to grudgingly admit that Ash's friends knew what they were doing. When he'd given them their formation orders after a brief survey of the surrounding landscape, Brock and Misty had immediately seen the sense in his fortification plans. Even May understood, having used something vaguely similar to—but far less advanced than—his design in her last contest at Saffron City where she'd managed to beat Dawn by a narrow margin in a difficult triple battle. Even Max understood some of Paul's reasoning behind the configuration.

So as a sort of apology, he had conceded to eating dinner with them as they sat around their campfire, following his standard patrol at sunset. Fortunately, they seemed to have moved on from bombarding him with questions about Ash and (unfortunately) started bombarding him with questions about everything else.

"Then what happened?!" May asked excitedly, leaning so far off the edge of her chair, that Paul was almost certain he'd have to perverse satisfaction of seeing her fall off of it.

Predictably, his luck didn't work out that way, and he sighed before continuing his story, "Then the man in the black coat with the blue and grey eyes simply left without a word, to rock other faces, master other universes, drink other kegs of vodka. Some say he was a king; some say he was a god. They were _both right!_"

Brock mused for a moment before mustering the fortitude for another question, "So, where have you been for the last ten years, Paul?"

Paul blinked at Brock, "What do you mean?"

Brock sighed, "Well, I've only seen you once before you came to Pallet since Ash beat you in the Sinnoh League, and even then we didn't have much time to catch up."

"Ah…" Paul drawled in realization, "You mean the time we crossed paths at that Pokémon Center in Petalburg City? That must have been… what? Seven years back? Eight?"

"Something like that," Brock chuckled, eyebrow quirking, "Something like two or three years after the Lily of the Valley Conference."

"That long ago?" Paul snorted wryly, "That Conference was ten years ago. I'm probably a thousand times stronger now than I was then… Well, since then, I trained and trained for years, went all the way up Mt. Silver once, only to find that someone had already taken it."

Dawn raised an eyebrow, "Who _else_ would be crazy enough to climb up that frozen mountain?" Then she saw the amused smirk Paul was giving her, "Oh, no," She muttered, "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me… Of course he'd have been crazy enough to…" She sighed loudly as realization dawned on the rest of the group.

Paul managed to restrain himself to a booming chuckle as he saw the understanding in the eyes of everyone else, "Yep! Ash Ketchum! Kicked my ass, too. But I could have—" Paul froze, eyes burning silvery, wide-eyed for a brief moment. Then he nodded and narrowed his eyes, "Understood." As his eyes faded to their normal violet, he turned towards the house and shout up at the loft, "Legend!"

"I got it too!" She replied, "Looker, Satoshi, and Hilbert are all _en route_. Limit got off the gunship."

"He told me that he had business to conduct and someone to see," Paul called back as he stood, "Any new orders?"

Legend stilled, eyes flashing a shining gray, "Yeah, from Looker and approved by Koya. We're to attend Brock's wedding."

Paul raised an eyebrow as the lowing silver faded from Legend's eyes, approaching one wall of the house, "Looker handed down those orders? He must be serious. Did Limit say why?"

Legend's mouth quirked upward at the corners as she answered, "A beautiful and regal woman gave him inspiration."

Paul blinked, "Ah. That makes _waaay_ too much sense; that damnably reckless hedonist…" He sighed, gripping a window frame as he began to scale the wall, "So the _Orchid_ will be coming? How soon?"

Legend ran the calculations in her head, "By my math, eighty-six hours from the time of Looker's departure."

Paul compared that with his current plans and nodded as he attained the roof, "That eliminates half a dozen undesirable scenarios. Very well, then, Legend, have your gear ready to move in an instant and inform Giovanni and Delia that Satoshi is on his way home with Looker. Knowing that crazy bastard, he'll probably drop him off at _school_ in the gunship."

"He does spoil that boy rotten, doesn't he?" Legend laughed without a single iota of remorse.

Paul snorted, falling into a seat beside Legend in the loft, "Indeed," He pulled a small figure from his pocket, a stocky, tower-shaped piece of glass that he twirled between his fingers, "The next step is to harvest information. Have our information regulation supplies ready for airdrop and make sure Pikachu is comfortable."

Legend quirked an eyebrow, "Where _is_ Pikachu, anyway? I haven't seen him this whole chapter!"

Paul snorted, scaling the wall, "He's mourning the loss of his beloved ketchup bottle by the recycling bin in the kitchen. We finished it off this afternoon."

Legend snorted, "_My arm is not long enough for the jerk-off motion that is in my soul,_" At Paul's extremely disturbed side-glance, she elaborated, "Looker said that once, but he never told me what it meant."

Paul sighed, "It means that there is no tangible way to express the amount of disgust, disbelief, disinterest, or wastefulness one feels about something; it's usually accompanied by a jerk-off motion."

Legend chuckled as Paul demonstrated said motion and took a beer from her ice chest, "Well, you and I both know what'll end up happening at the wedding—this _is_ a (sort-of) disappearance fanfic after all."

Paul rolled his eyes, "My arm is not long enough for the jerk-off motion that is in my soul right now."

"Ready to be brutally murdered?"

Paul gave her a significant side-glance, "What do we say to the God of Death, Legend?"

She grinned, "Not Today."

0000000000

_Undella Town, Unova, 5:32 PM UST_

Limit set his face in a grim mask as he strode out of the misty forests of Route 14. He'd had to fend off more than one ambush by Team Plasma, and he hadn't bothered letting them escape his wrath on two feet. The lucky ones got away on _one_ foot. The lucki_er_ ones had died quickly. He wouldn't dwell on what he'd done to the unlucky ones: they were terrorists, and had the situations been reversed, they'd have done the same to him. But he'd given them a clean death when he'd finished with them: a sword through the heart, a sudden stop; they'd fought him well, and they'd earned that much respect from him. He, Vladimir Limit of the International Police.

He was a great, monstrous bear of a man—a fact that his black longcoat failed to diminish—towering six-foot-six with thick and powerful limbs and eyes that missed little. The journey across the desert and through the forests to Undella Town had been little challenge, though it had tired him some. He'd have to rest up before going to retrieve the Crown.

Undella was a tiny little resort town, and as such, it didn't take long for him to find the Royeaux Villa. The Royeauxs were one of the richest and most powerful families in Unova and Sinnoh, had ruled as kings in Unova's ancient past, and in fact were still the royal family of Unova, if only symbolically. It had been they who had built the great temple at the bottom of Undella Bay. There he would find the third fragment: the Crown.

When he'd rapped on the door to Caitlin's villa, he'd expected a maid to answer, or Darach, her valet. He'd not expected Caitlin to appear herself, flushed, out of breath, and radiant, blonde hair spilling over her shoulders like molten gold as she leaned on the doorframe with one arm, staring at him in half-comprehension. Limit blinked at her as the scent of orchids washed over him. He'd never seen Caitlin look so… normal.

Caitlin coughed and doubled over for a moment, wheezing as she braced herself against the wood of the doorframe. The sleeves of her pink gown were smudged with ink and her pink hat was askew, threatening to tumble off her head if she tilted it the wrong way, "Remember how you once wanted to be Champion?"

Limit gave her a long look, "…yeah…"

"Don't… Ever… If it's this hard being Elite Four, it'd have to be torment to be Champion. I don't know how Alder does it."

"I thought Iris was Champion," Limit observed.

Caitlin waved off his comment, still panting, "Drayden dethroned her three years ago, and Alder toppled _him_ last year. Big news at the time. You never knew?"

"I work in space, Caitlin. We're busy up there doing… awesome space stuff. No gravity, and lasers."

"Lovely," Caitlin commented, still breathing heavily.

Limit raised his uncovered eyebrow, "What happened to you? I know for a fact that it wasn't Looker, because I just put him on a flight to Kanto six hours ago."

Caitlin gestured behind her, where Darach was frantically ordering servants about, "We're packing for our trip to Kanto. I got a full blast of this madness when I tried to get involved. Zekrom Above, my feet hurt," She sighed and looked up at him wearily.

Taking pity on her harried form, Limit gave her a rueful smile before sweeping her off her feet and into his arms, one hand under her bent knees and the other supporting her lower back as she rested her head against his shoulder, hair trailing below her as her hat fell to the ground. Limit stooped enough that she could reach one long pale hand out to retrieve it, then proceeded into the house. With Limit a good foot taller than her, she seemed almost diminutive in his arms as she cradled her poufy hat against her chest. When he deposited her on the couch, her hair splaying out across one of the sofa's plush cushions, he lifted her legs and placed them across his lap as he sat down.

When he pressed a thumb against the sole of her foot and dragged it down the length of her arch, Caitlin gave a groan of relief, "That feels _so_ good," She informed him, "How have you been?"

"Alright," Limit grunted, shifting his grip on her foot such that his fingers pressed against her sole and his thumb on the top of her foot, "Been busy trying to track down Cyrus. He went to ground almost immediately after he reappeared."

Caitlin muttered a response that dissolved into a sigh as Limit continued to massage her foot, "What brought you all the way out here? Couldn't you have gone with Looker to Kanto?"

"The Crown," Limit grumbled simply.

"Ah," She breathed in realization, "Then you'll be coming with me and Cynthia?"

"Exactly," Limit answered, drawing a shudder of gratitude as he smoothed a pressuring finger along the inside of Caitlin's wearied arch.

She giggled a bit and hand to resist the urge to snatch back her foot at the slight tickling sensation his fingers brought, "Very well, then. You'll of course have to dine with me tonight—Leonardo would never forgive me if I failed to show you every hospitality I could—then I suppose you'll go diving for the Crown?"

Limit nodded, "That's the plan," He murmured quietly, pressing his thumbs against her heels.

She nodded and sighed, sinking into the cushions, "Good, good. I'm feeling tired. Tell Darach to keep the noise down, will you?"

Limit nodded as Caitlin dozed off, gently maneuvering himself out from under her legs and going to speak with Darach. In a low voice, he outlined his plan for the next twenty-four hours, and asked for his full cooperation, as well as that of the servants. While the servants busied themselves fixing dinner, and while Caitlin slept on the couch, Darach and Limit poured over a map of the world, plotting the route the _Orchid_ would take. When they had finished, the cook's assistant, a petite maiden with hair like spun-fire, informed them that dinner was ready. Dismissing Darach to retire for the evening, Limit roused Caitlin with a gentle burst of aura.

Rising from her sleep gracefully, she yawned and stretched before standing, "Mmm, that feels much better."

"Dinner's ready," He told her, standing and walking around the couch, "I gave Darach the rest of the evening off; we leave tomorrow morning."

"Good," Caitlin extended her arms above her head, straining them to work out the lethargy instilled in them by sleep, "What are we having?"

"Ducklett and Onion Soup," Limit smiled, "Looker said it was your favorite."

Caitlin flushed pleasantly, then raised the back of her hand to her cheek, feeling her own warmth, "Even when he's halfway across the world, Leonardo can do this to me," She murmured in wonder.

Limit's grin widened, "He has that effect on people. Even if he's on another continent entirely, he can still jerk Paul around."

She smiled amusedly, "So he's said."

Limit nodded as they made their way to the dining room, a richly furnished space with more chairs than Limit could think of uses for. They sat together at one end, chatting companionably as they spooned soup into their mouths. He amused her with the more palatable tales of his missions as she detailed much of the world's current events to him. She smiled when he cracked a joke and laughed when he planted a brotherly kiss on her cheek. In another life, if he'd ever wanted a sister, it would have been Caitlin Royeaux.

He blinked when she took him by the hand, pulling him out of his chair, "Will you come see my garden with me?"

Limit smiled easily, "Of course, little sister."

_"Little?"_ She asked pointedly, "We're of an age."

"Yes, but I'm bigger," Limit pointed out unapologetically.

Caitlin scowled at him for a moment before melting into a relaxed smile, "Well then, _big brother_, let's get going."

She led him out through a glass door in the back of the villa to a quiet retreat of red and green and violet and every color between. Behind the villa was Caitlin's garden, wherein she spent much of her time when she was not battling or reading or sleeping. Beside the door stood a small, elegant-looking cabin that held her gardening tools, and so it went unnoticed. Looking down, Limit noted the grass and smiled, lifting his right leg and tugging off his boot as Caitlin easily shed her slippers. When he had extricated himself from the deathgrip of his other boot and socks, he placed his bare feet on the mat of soft grass beneath him.

"Zoysia grass," He muttered, "Very soft; good choice, Caitlin."

"My favorite," She answered as she lay back on the grass, hair pooling around her like honey, "I've always loved this garden, even as a little girl."

"As I recall it, you _were_ a little girl when we first met,"

"Hush," She chided, "You conquered my Battle Castle and defeated Darach with surprising ease. I would have battled you myself, if… well…"

"If a quick-witted boy hadn't beaten me to it… and beaten _you_," Limit said, "You were a bit petulant back then—arrogant even. I suppose it's my good fortune that I wasn't the one to beat you," He sat down beside her, "I hadn't yet developed my powers. I still lacked this," He brought his hand to the right side of his face, where his hair and eye were swathed in bandages, "And this," He tapped his wrist, "If I'd fought and beaten you, that psychic storm might have killed me."

"As it was…" Caitlin sighed, "No, I have no excuse. I was lucky that the first challenger capable of defeating me was also capable of resisting my powers."

Limit smiled down at her ruefully, then lay back, "Maybe it was luck. Or perhaps something more powerful… Perhaps it was predestined, after all…" Limit's grin twisted in something like amusement, but more savage, "Are you fond of riddles, Caitlin?"

"Am I about to hear one?" She asked in reply.

Limit snorted in laughter, "In a room stand three great men: a king, a priest, and a rich man. Between them stands a common swordsman of no extraordinary ability. Each great man bids he kill the other two. Who lives and who dies?"

Caitlin furrowed her brow for a long moment, blinking hard, "Depends on the swordsman, I suppose."

"Does it?" Limit smirked, "He has neither power nor wealth nor favor with the powers that be—"

"He has a sword, he decides who lives and who dies, he has the power of life and death!" Caitlin protested.

"But if it's swordsmen that rule, why do we pretend otherwise? Why do we pretend that rich men have influence, that politicians and kings can change our lives, that gods can alter our fate?"

Caitlin chewed on her lips sourly for a moment, stewing in Limit's retort, "I don't think I'm fond of riddles."

Limit laughed long and hard at that.

It was morning by the time Caitlin next was aware. She was in her bed, tucked safely beneath the warm covers, Limit dozing in a chair beside her bed. They'd talked away another hour in her garden of orchids before she'd fallen asleep. He'd evidently carried her to bed and tucked her in, then fallen asleep himself.

He was out of the chair before her feet even touched the floor, "You always managed to wake up before I'm out of bed," She pouted, "What's your secret?"

"Magical techno-spacey stuff," Limit deadpanned.

Caitlin shook her head, fanning her hair out around her into its usual style, then looked down at herself, noting that she still in the blouse she had been wearing the previous evening. When she eyed Limit, he snorted in amusement.

"You were fast asleep, and not much of a graceful waker," He chuckled, "I thought it wise to leave you as you were."

Caitlin closed her eyes, "Perhaps, though I do feel much better after a good night's rest. Tell Tanya to draw a bath for me and be at the boat by 8:30."

Limit looked to the small clock adorning Caitlin's wall, seeing that he had an hour, "Sure thing, little sis."

He headed out the door as Caitlin went for the bathroom, striding down the opulent halls until he found Tanya, Caitlin's lady maid, pretty as the dawn with rich brown hair that fell around her face in soft curls and hazel eyes that glimmered with mirth when she was in a good mood. She had a sharp eye and a sharper mind and she almost always managed to find a way to outwit Limit when put to the task. He was already _quite_ familiar with her. Approaching from behind her silently, he grabbed her by the wrist and spun her around, pinning her to the wall with a kiss that she returned fully.

"It's been a while since I last saw _you_," She grinned wolfishly as she pressed against him, seeing that he had most _definitely_ taken notice of her, "Too busy sleeping with other girls to have some fun with a _real_ woman?

"Lady Caitlin needs a bath and I have an hour to kill. What say you draw one for her and then we go to the barn and find a nice soft bale of hay, and you can show me how much fun a real woman is," He murmured sultrily in her ear.

Limit was five and a half minutes late to the boat, and Caitlin greeted him with an upraised eyebrow and laughing eyes, "When did you become a remorseless womanizer, dear brother?"

He returned her amused look with his own, "When I decided that I'd rather live than die," He tapped his bandaged face, "I had a pointed reminder that life is cold and cruel and that death can come for us when we least expect it. If I'm to die, I'd rather do so content than dissatisfied. So I'll drink and eat and fuck until my heart gives out and I keel over."

Caitlin's eyebrow remained in its upward position, "I highly doubt that your heart will be giving out any time soon."

Limit gave a wicked cackle, "No indeed."

Their banter was interrupted by the arrival of another person. Tall, honey-haired, grey-eyed Cynthia grinned blissfully at them as she adjusted her black, floor-length coat, "Have room for one more?"

Limit's smile widened as he took in the sight of the older woman, "There's always room at the inn for you, _big sister_."

Cynthia mock-gasped and gave him a swat on the arm, "It's rude to mention a woman's age!" She scolded, then winced and clutched her hand, "Owie…"

"And that's why people don't hit me," Limit deadpanned again, "Because I've got arms of _fucking Adamantium!_"

Cynthia chuckled, then brushed her forehead dramatically, "Whatever happened to the sweet little boy who defeated me? When did he turn into this raucous, foul-mouthed nymphomaniac?"

Limit turned to her, his eyebrow raised now, "I decided to live while I could. You heard what I said to Caitlin?" Cynthia nodded, "Then you understand, big sister. I see no reason to hedge my words or curb my urges when I could be dead on the morrow. Any woman I sleep with knows she's not the first or last or only, I make that clear long before we hit the covers. If we fuck, it's because she wants to and doesn't care whether or not I take other women to bed, and the same holds true in reverse."

Cynthia gazed at him a moment longer before raising her arms, "Come here and gimme a hug, my little—pseudo—brother."

Limit embraced her and swung her around, "Pseudo? I'm your brother in every way but blood!"

Cynthia's grin widened as she held him at arm's length, "And his brother as well, I'm sure. Besides, it's not official until the knot is tied…"

"So it isn't," Limit replied, smiling easily, "C'mon, let's go before we're delayed any longer."

"It was you who delayed us," Caitlin snarked.

"Hush, Caitlin," He chided, "I'm channeling my inner Aquaman."

As the boat disengaged from the dock and headed out to Undella Bay, Limit reflected briefly that if he went to Kanto, it may indeed be the end of his secrecy. Even if Eric Felling had failed at trying to declassify his location (he was going to have to make that up to Looker sometime,) the fact remained that there was every chance this positioning would bring light to the darkness he surrounded himself with. But Dark was not evil, he reminded himself; it was merely the absence of light.

When the boat came to a stop and weighed anchor, Limit stripped off his longcoat, leaving him in only a tight-fitting white shirt that did little to disguise his figure, muscular as it was. His hat, too, came off, leaving his black hair to fall around his shoulders, long and ragged from his time in space, before he vaulted off the railings of the yacht and dove into the cool, clear waters of Undella Bay.

Affixing a rebreather to his face, covering his mouth and nose, Limit swam down quickly, strengthening his limbs with Aura to propel himself downward faster. His thoughts turned to the _Pelliper_ gunship he had sent Looker and Satoshi off on as he entered the Abyssal Ruins, and for a brief moment, he worried that they may have been attacked. He quashed those fears immediately; Looker was there, along with Koya. They were two Champion-level combatants with enough armament and ammunition to bring down a large meteor. Everyone onboard would be fine.

Limit pushed his way past the last gate to ascend to the fourth level. There on a heavy marble pedestal sat his quarry, the Relic Crown, surrounded on all sides by deep chasms that reached into the depths of the sea.

So eager to return to the surface and get going was he that he didn't even pause to consider his environment. So single-minded was he that he didn't see the massive red tentacle that reached up from the dark until it wrapped around his leg and dragged him down into the depths.

**/**

**There you have it, Chapter 3 of Agent Limit. And we didn't even get sued once, ain't that grand!**

_**This part is slightly important!**_** Anyway, I'm considering stopping these little quizzes, since it seems that nobody ever answers them. If you want 'em to continue, let me know, but if not, just stay silent. Or review. Tell me what you think. Reviews are what we writers live for. You can't write something if there's no feedback, not if your blood runs printer-ink black, goddammit!**

**Remember: REVIEWS MAKE ME WRITE FASTER!**

**Anyway, I'll give you the answers to last Chapter's quiz, then give you the one for this Chapter (and what may be the final quiz.)**

**CHAPTER 2 QUIZ ANSWERS:**

**1) Sure, you keep thinking that, Looker. 2) Very. Why not, right?**

**3) Because it's a reference to **_**Assassin's Creed**_**, like everything else Looker does.**

**4) Because Mars had a crappy childhood. All her friends were kind of dickish.**

**5) Because he's a trillion-year-old time-traveling wizard-dragon. He's Doctor Who, that's "WHO" he is.**

_**We interrupt your quiz to tell you that Cortega has been summarily beaten for his crappy puns. Without further ado, enjoy the rest of his idiocy.**_

**7) Because he's a man of God. And a little weird. Take your pick.**

**8) I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of my own brains **_**EXPLODING**_**.**

**9) It wasn't. 10) 70. 11) It's **_**Halo 3: ODST**_**, okay? I had a bit of a phase!**

**12) EXTREMELY.**

**Now, on to the QUIZ for this Chapter.**

**CHAPTER 3 QUIZ:**

**Why does the group suck so bad at 20 Questions?**

**Who are Jaime and Tyrion, and which House are they from?**

**How badass was it when Looker fought that witch? (**_**You're not fooling anyone, Looker!**_**)**

**Isn't it awesome how Limit can jump off a lighthouse and damage the **_**ground**_** instead of himself? (Remember, children, vandalism is a crime only if you're not an impossibly high-level secret agent!)**

**WHY THE HELL DO ALL POKÉMON ATTACKS EXPLODE?!**

**Hey! What happened to the Answer to Question 6 from the last Chapter?!**

**CaitlinXLooker; Thoughts? (Don't like, don't bother responding. It's not changing.)**

**Do you remember how Legend was Courtney in the original AL?**

**HilbertXElesa; Awesome, or just weird?**

**Why do my characters hate me so?**

**Why does Looker's Libido keep taking over his mind?**

**Who was the man from Paul's tale that he was telling the group around a campfire? (HINT: If you've read my other fics, you might know this.)**

**Who knows who Soren Bowie is?**

**From whom do the lines "What do we say to the God of Death?/Not today," come from?**

**Why are Limit's arms made of "**_**fucking Adamantium,"**_** why does he have them, and will they be of any help against the vengeful Kraken that's no doubt attempting to devour his Wolverine-esque bod as we speak?**

**Do you guys actually read this, and/or even like these quizzes? They take a lot of effort to write, y'know…**

**/**

**TRANSLATION NOTES:**

**[1]: Holy Water**

**[2]: Witch**

**[3]: the Hunter**

**[4]: That is correct!**

**[5]: Lady**

**[6]: I'm sorry.**

**[7]: I promise you.**

**[8]: My brothers!**

**[9]: Go fuck yourself!**

**[10]: (This one is not being revealed; consider it a bonus for those of you who are interested…)**


	5. Cold Shock

**Sorry for the late update, folks. I promise you I'm not dead yet. In fact, I'm hoping to have a new chapter out by Christmas! (This is a grand promise, and I hope to fulfill it.) My thanks as always to my absolutely amazing beta, Justicez, without whom I would scarcely have the confidence to post these chapters. Remember to leave a review for the author!**

**/**

**Chapter 4: Cold Shock**

_Gateon Port, Orre, 5:14 AM Orre Standard Time, 5 Years Beyond the Change_

The Baron huffed as he walked through the dingy grey streets of Gateon Port, tugging impatiently at his violet jacket's collar and knocking over a bottle carelessly as he hurried to make the ship that would take him to Kanto. It had been almost a year since he had come to Orre, and he knew the port like the back of his hand. Of course, he also knew that the town was as filled to the brim with highwaymen as Landing was with general scorn, so it came as no surprise when four of them stepped out of an alleyway to block his path.

"Now, you got two choices here," The lead man, the one the Baron had immediately dubbed "Joe-Bob," said, "You can either hand over every last coin you have, or I can knife you, _then_ take every last coin you have."

The Baron held back a snarl. These idiots had no idea who or what they were dealing with. He would give no quarter in this; he hadn't survived the Change and fought tooth and nail for his comrades to be slowed down by some loudmouthed yokel who thought he was king of the world. He had business to attend to and a ship to catch.

"I'll give you this one chance," He uttered, his voice level and steely, "Turn back now and walk away, and I guarantee you will not be harmed."

Some of the idiots looked a bit nervous. Their job was probably easier than this most times: just step out of an alley, spout a few macho-sounding lines, and walk away with full hands. If they thought he'd be cowed by their posturing, they were about to learn how sadly mistaken they were. He rolled his shoulders loosening both his weapon and the necessary muscles in preparation for a fight. He was not disappointed.

Joe-Bob took a threatening step forward, and the Baron understood why. If he backed down now, he'd lose credibility with his underlings, "I don't think so. What kinda harm could a shrimp like you do?"

That was what the baron had been waiting for, "I'm glad you asked."

It was fifty-two seconds later when the Baron exited the alley. As he did, he heard something like a muffled moan. He half turned and reached up toward his shoulder, a movement that was responded to with a satisfying yelp. He nodded and continued on his way to the port.

The policemen who later came on the scene found several interesting bits of evidence. The first came from the two unconscious thugs laying splayed over each other. The bottom one had been knocked out by sheer concussive force, while the top one had sustained traumatic damage to his trachea, as evinced by the ligature marks around his neck. The third man's right shin had been fractured around a nasty-looking abrasion. The fourth seemed to have been struck in the throat somehow, and then knocked unconscious when he'd fallen flat on his back. The fifth and last had suffered partial occlusion of the carotid arteries due to some form of rope or cord wrapped around his neck, which had been held there until he'd blacked out.

The Baron was already on his ship by the time the thugs woke up in police custody, four minutes after he'd left the alley. By the time the idiots had been taken to the city prison and processed, he was already ten miles out at sea.

The Baron sighed and clasped his hands together, lacing his fingers, "Oh Rayquaza Above, guide me in what I must do," The Baron nodded slightly, then gazed out at the horizon, "Nothing will stop me from reaching my comrades. Nothing will stop me from getting back to them…

"That's right. Nothing can stop Agent Tariq Lightning."

0000000000

_Abyssal Ruins, Undella Bay, 9:17 AM_

The moment he felt the tug on his leg, Limit knew he'd been careless. At the same instance his hand had closed around the Crown. The tentacle that had wound around his leg yanked sharply and down he went, the ancient hammered bronze Crown still in his grip, eyes widening in shock as he was dragged down into the darkness. Quickly, he began struggling against the limb, kicking and twisting with all his considerable might, but to no avail as the feeler pulled with inexorable force.

Mouth twisting in a silent snarl, he pulled back his arm, hardening his body with Aura as he struck the tentacle with explosive force. Unfortunately, physics being physics, his punch was dampened by the water around him, and the feeler only slackened slightly as he went down, down, down. He wrenched his leg back and forth and struck at the tentacle again and again, but all in vain.

How much deeper was he being pulled? A hundred feet? A thousand? He looked up to see only blackness, nothingness.

He was below the 3300 feet mark now, over a kilometer underwater. No light would reach him here.

Contrary to popular belief, there is no depth at which the human body would be crushed by the ocean's pressure. The human body is made up of mostly non-compressible materials: sixty percent of that being water. No, the only thing about diving so deep is that the air in your lungs and blood compresses. Oxygen becomes toxic under high pressure, bubbles form in the joints and blood and brain if the body is decompressed too quickly. Dive too deep and the surfacing could cripple the nervous system. You don't die because you get crushed; you die because you _can't breathe_.

All of this Limit recognized, and for a moment, he reflected that it was fortunate that it had been he who had gone diving for the Crown. If anyone else had done it, they would never have been able to surface before the nitrogen-induced hallucinations led them to happily suffocate. As it was, Limit's innate Aura was the only thing between himself and a head filled with fuzzy visions of Philmore the Purple Rapidash and Sir Aaron decked out in drag; it was able to keep the pressure within his body at a comfortable 101.3 kilopascals.

_'The kid gloves come off now,'_ He decided, unsheathing his right-hand blade and sinking it deep into the squirming flesh of the feeler.

The thing responded with a horrific shriek from somewhere in front of him and jerked down, releasing him from its grip as he came to rest against something solid, clouds of red, red blood billowing out around him like smoke. The seafloor he guessed.

_'Move fast! Don't think,'_ His training whispered in the quiet places of his mind, _'Zero to sixty. Go!'_

In the moment before he released his aura, Limit was glad that he'd had Paul teach him how to convert his body's wasted heat energy into light. A Steel-Type technique, it allowed him to simultaneously eliminate one inefficiency while accomplishing another task. He gathered all the heat his body would normally give off in his left hand and converted it into light energy, as Paul had taught him to do, before his hand began glowing brilliantly. In the moments following the flare of his light, he immediately regretted doing so. Some things were better off being unknown.

They'd all heard the stories as kids, obviously. The stories of 200-foot-long Sharpedo that could swallow a ship whole. Of island-sized Carracosta so old and immense that their every movement sent tsunamis rippling across the globe. Of huge Cradily the size of skyscrapers that lurked in the abyss, ripping apart submarines that came too near. Of ancient Armaldo with nigh-unbreakable armor that feasted on sunken ships and their doomed sailors alike. But this one trumped them all.

The first thing he noticed were the eyes—strange, how he went for the most human aspect of the thing—huge, millstone-sized discs punctuated only by an angry, black pupil, lidded with a red, craggy eyelid that blinked rapidly in rage and pain. The next thing he saw was the tentacles, great, serpentine things of slimy red flesh, studded with yellow suckers all along the length. Each one must have been at least fifty feet long, maybe even more. For a moment, he wondered how one could have wrapped around his leg, what with each being almost two feet thick, before he noticed one pulsating—the one he had stabbed before—growing and shrinking in thickness like intestines as red blood continued to swell out in great crimson plumes.

Limit had seen a lot of things in his twenty-five years, but he'd never seen an Octillery the size of a small battleship before. He thought it must have been mutated by some sort of radiation, but no; there were no such signs, no sickly coloring, no faint glow, not a tick coming from his Geiger counter. This thing must have grown naturally.

_'But how?'_

Limit felt the hammered bronze warm beneath his fingers. Of course, the Crown. Each artifact needed a guardian to protect it, Looker had once told him. If an appropriate one was not readily available, it would forcibly mutate one. It must have taken tens of thousands of years, maybe hundreds of thousands, to generate the beast he saw before him now.

No, not beast, _beasts._ There was a whole colony down here, he felt. Their aura clouded the water around him, and through his aura sight he could see their undulating bodies, tentacles moving to encircle him. He had to end this fast.

A vicious snarl would have spread across his face if he hadn't had his mouth clamped down around the rebreather, _'Right, then. Let's end this _now_.'_

He would have to be fast, and speed was not something that was with him right now. He'd shed his heavy longcoat and hat, along with more than a little equipment, but the human body, no matter how well-tuned or modified, was not built to move underwater like a Gorebyss. He'd use one of Looker's strategies, then, flow around attacks rather than dodge or block them outright. It might cost him a cut or two, but the end result would be the one he desired.

He surged upward as best he could, funneling light energy out through his hands. Paul had once demonstrated it to him, having based it off of some comic book character that Looker was fond of (he never _had_ figured out who Tony Stark was.)

The technique wasn't of much use on land: light had only so much push it could give, and while it could support a human's weight, it took too much energy to fly. Paul had tried it once and had soared for all of four and a half seconds before he ran out of power and fell unconscious. He'd been lucky that at least one of their team was able to fly on his own, else he might have broken something irreplaceable.

The Octillary lashed out at him, a massive red tentacle sweeping across the water at him, dragging up dust and detritus in its wake. Limit spun quickly, dodging the feeler and scrambling up its length. Another tentacle stabbed at him and he ducked as best he could, the surprisingly sharp point scratching the skin between his neck and shoulder.

_'One of those to the chest could kill even me,'_ He thought as he slid past another feeler. The Octillary was getting frustrated now, kicking up great clouds of silt and detritus. He dove under another tentacle and did his best to conceal himself in the dust. He was partially successful, enough so that the monster's next jab went wide. He used the opportunity to lash out with his sword, severing a good ten feet of the tentacle. The monster gave an unearthly shriek and flailed about, before settling and glaring at him with unadulterated anger, its body beginning to glow a pale red.

_'My life,'_ Limit thought seriously, _'Is a Mario game. A fuckin' Mario game.'_

He had little time to lament his life as the Octillary spat a stream of boiling hot water, the gout frothing even over a kilometer beneath the sea. Limit pivoted out of the way as best he could, but the rush still clipped him across the back, tearing through his shirt and causing the skin there to blister. He grunted in pain as the blisters were smothered in seawater, literally rubbing salt in his wounds. That was it, playtime was over.

Lightning, that was what he needed. He stopped moving and faced down the monster, light still radiating from his hands. The beast seemed to understand that the next move would decide who lived and who died. Limit gathered his aura in his hands as he let the lights die out. As he watched the massive Octillary ready itself in preparation to fire, he wondered if it would be the last thing he ever saw as the whole world faded out.

_'Strike.'_

The light returned brighter than ever in a coalesced beam of electricity, shooting across the intervening space to illuminate the surrounding seafloor. Even with all his energy and focus put into keeping up the lightning bolt, Limit could still see the hazy shapes of other huge Octillary flinching back from the light, which would have outshone the sun on its best day. But what loomed beyond them put a cold shot of fear even in Limit's steely heart. Beyond the rows of huge Octillary loomed a behemoth, a leviathan, a golden-colored Octillary so large he was sure it could have knocked a plane out of the sky with its reach.

His mind went cold with fear, and Limit Two took the opportunity to seize control of the situation. He snarled with rage and slammed a hand against the dead Octillary he'd just electrocuted.

_'Die? Me?'_ He thought, _'Not today.'_

He sent a current through the slain monster, helping to complete the events his alter-ego had set in motion. Electricity generated heat, and heat caused things to become less dense. With the dead beast losing density, it was easy enough to ride buoyancy to the surface. Limit Two cast a look down at the receding beasts as he ascended toward the surface, and took a chilly sort of comfort at the hammered bronze and steel between his fingers.

_'We have what we came for, Number One,'_ He thought, _'Now let's hope our luck holds 'til Kanto.'_

_'Here's to hoping,'_ Limit One thought back as he took control.

He could see light above him once more, growing brighter and brighter as he rose to the surface on the buoyancy of a fried octopus. Off to the side, he saw the shadow of a ship's hull and he grinned. When he broke through the surface, Caitlin Royeaux uttered an exclamation of astonishment, and Cynthia swore loudly.

When he was pulled up from the water and hauled onto the deck, Agent Vladimir Limit had only one thing to ask:

"How much can we get for this much calamari?"

0000000000

_No. 12, Rue de Plumet, Pallet Town, Kanto, 8:29 PM KST_

Paul fingered Morningedge's hilt as he crouched in Delia's loft, the massive longsword strapped across his back. He'd drawn the first watch, so it was him looking out over Pallet Town while Legend caught a few hours of sleep on the futon they'd set up in the loft. Brock had taken charge of the packing up the group's camp, save for their tents. As Paul turned to survey the other side of the house, a shout drew his attention.

"Paul!" Dawn called out, "Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did!" He replied loudly.

She merely rolled her eyes, "Come on down."

Paul chuckled and vaulted over the loft railing, sliding down the angled roof and landing in a crouch with a muffled _thud!_ He dusted himself off as he stood, "What is it?"

"How'd you become an Agent?" She asked, "I'm curious because I want to know how Ash fell in with them."

Paul exhaled heavily as he ran a hand through his hair, "We'd best sit down, it'll be a long story." When they were both seated on chairs under Delia's back porch, he continued, "It was about five years ago when the International Police approached me… well, _approached_ is probably the wrong word for it…"

0000000000

_Canalave City, Sinnoh, Five Years Previously, 2:13 AM Sinnoh Standard Time_

Paul was definitely not happy with the situation. First, he'd been rather rudely awoken in the middle of the night to the sound of explosions near the dock. Then, immediately after rushing there on foot, he'd been set upon by a horde of low-level Team Plasma agents. He'd taken shelter behind a steel shipping container, but he wasn't sure how long it would take them to circle it from both sides and catch him in a pincer movement. He knew how effective the strategy was—he'd used it himself in several double battles after all.

"You don't want to die."

Paul whirled around at the new voice, high and accented. Behind him stood a man in a light brown coat, blue shirt and dark pants, head bent low as he checked the straps on his arm bracers, "Who the hell are you?"

The man paused and then tilted his head up toward the light. He was a handsome man, with a pointed, stubbly chin and a sharp jawline, with a somewhat crooked nose and bright, intelligent eyes of a dark blue. He grinned, "Think of me as your own personal devil, Mr. Blackwood. Call me Looker. I'm with Interpol."

"Interpol," Paul repeated, wide-eyed, "Are you all there is?"

"One riot, one Agent," He said casually, checking the stock of his pistol. He gave Paul a wry smile, "I'm kidding. There's a Special Forces unit two klicks out, but they won't make it for another three minutes at this rate," He tapped his earpiece, "Get me a line to Guardian actual… It's me. _I bastardi_ are making another play… There's a Spec-Ops unit three minutes out, but they'll never make the window… Of course I've got backup! He's… he's, uh… he's a local asset, _maciste _[1]if you take my interpretation… Right, over."

Then man the Paul would become extremely familiar with, whose codename was Salacastern Looker, then double-checked the strap of his bracers and nodded, "You know how to fight?"

"Well enough," Paul said.

Looker gave him a sideways glance, "We'll see soon enough. They're coming right now."

Then he flicked his wrists, deploying a pair of hooked blades that Paul would become well acquainted with over the next few years, "Let's go."

Looker whirled past Paul and rounded the corner. Paul hesitated a moment, then followed, already hearing the sounds of combat. Looker stood in the middle of a group of about ten grunts, leaping and lunging and rolling. He hamstrung one with his blade and hurled a knife into the throat of another.

"'Nother group of six coming 'round the corner, _amico_!" He shouted, unfolding a wicked-looking tomahawk from his belt, "Take care of 'em!"

Paul had never had any formal combat training, but one didn't boss around an Ursaring with anger issues without having the basic knowledge to strangle the life out of it with one's bare hands. He turned to face the oncoming group and dove at them. At close quarters they wouldn't risk firing their guns, so he had the advantage. He rammed his fist into the stomach of the first grunt to get within arm's reach and slammed a knee into his face when he doubled over. The next two came at him from opposite sides, so he ducked under the knife of one and broke the man's arm across his shoulder, hurling him into the other man. He wrapped an arm around the neck of the fourth man and slammed him into the side of a shipping container hard enough to dent the rippled steel. He kept his forearm jammed beneath the man's jaw as he fought off the last two. He kicked one in the chest, hearing a sharp _crack_ as his sternum broke and backhanded the other man unconscious. When he pulled his arm away, the fourth man slid down the wall, disturbingly still.

Paul recoiled from the body and turned to see Looker finishing with his group, slapping the last grunt's gun away with his tomahawk and ripping open his throat with the point of the hook of his blade. Casually walking toward him, Looker gave Paul a nod, "You're efficient, to say the least."

Paul breathed heavily, then turned back to the dead man, the man whose throat he'd crushed, "I killed him," He murmured, and for a moment, he felt much smaller than he was.

Looker gave him a strange look, then seemed to understand, "Never killed before, have you. Here," He drew a flask from the tough fabric of his jacket and pressed it to Paul's chest, "It should keep you until you can get to a bathroom. Go on, I'll call in the mop-up units."

"Why would I…"

"It'll dawn on you in a bit," Looker said sympathetically, "You'll realize that you took another life, another human being's life. And you might not ever feel the same way again." He tapped the bottle, "Take it and go, _amico_. There's a bathroom around the corner, and you should have enough time to down the bottle and get there before your stomach starts rejecting the idea that you killed a man. Go on."

Looker, as it turned out, was right. Paul spent an hour retching into a sink, Looker patting him on the back sympathetically. When he'd managed to clear the foul taste of bile from his mouth, he nodded to the older man and muttered his thanks. Looker gave him a small nod, then made a hand signal to someone outside.

"There's someone you should meet, Mr. Blackwood—"

"Please, just called me Paul," He half-groaned, "Once you see a man bent double and vomiting, you're probably familiar enough to call them by first name."

Looker smiled, "Paul then. This friend of mine, a man I work with… He said you have some…special skills. Skills we could make use of."

Now Paul was confused, "Who told you this?"

"I did," Came a voice that echoed in his mind, like a long-forgotten memory, "It's been two years since we fought on the summit of Mt. Silver, Paul. I expect you to have improved."

0000000000

_No. 12, Rue de Plumet, Pallet Town, Kanto, 8:36 PM KST_

"Ash?"

"Ash." Paul confirmed, "After that I sort of fell in with Interpol. I joined Ash and Looker's team, first as a trainee, then became something of an artillery and heavy weapons specialist."

"Really?" Dawn asked conversationally, "Explains the cannon… What about the others?"

"Legend is our sniper and usually acts as Overwatch. Looker's our hand-to-hand, close-in combat man, plus he has a deft hand with explosives and vehicles. Ash… had a way with technology…"

Dawn wondered at those pauses, but was distracted when May called out to her, "Dawn, where did you keep the shampoo? Glaceon's fur's getting disheveled and I wanted to get a bath in for her before the wedding anyway."

"I'll come help!" Dawn shouted, turning back to Paul, "Have to run."

"Take care," He said calmly, looking up at the loft, "I should get back on Overwatch."

Dawn nodded and left for the camp as Paul launched himself upward, hanging in midair for a moment before tumbling back into the loft.

"Sure you shouldn't have just bewitched her into not asking questions?"

Paul looked down to see Legend gazing up at him, head on her pillow, short brown hair brushing her chin, and he shook his head, "It'll be easier in the long run if I feed them bits and pieces at a time. It'll give them time to brace themselves for the shock."

"Electric shock," Legend said grinning, cradling Haro closer to her chest, "They'll be thunderstruck."

"Oh, can it," Paul muttered fondly, "You're horrible."

She nodded and squirmed into a more comfortable position, "That I am…"

Paul looked at her with a slight sadness before turning and gazing up at the stars. "Sleep well, Legend."

As he sat there watching the lights of distant worlds wheel overhead, the air stirred and lifted, chilling him.

The cold winds were rising, and they would all have to be prepared when the storm came.

0000000000

_Interpol Barracks, Goldenrod City, Johto, 9:22 PM JST_

Looker's eyes flickered open as the _Pelliper's_ rotors began to wind down. Beside him, Satoshi was already asleep, head lying peacefully in a snoozing Hilbert's lap. The pilot gave him the hand signal indicating that he'd need to pick up fuel for the gunship, at least forty-five minutes for Looker to gather any supplies. It had been a long few days, but Looker was still on edge, so he selected a Pokéball at random and deployed the beast within. Craggy and sturdy, the rugged shape of his Armaldo took form before him.

"Alighieri, keep an eye on the boy, don't let anything happen to him," Looker ordered, "I'll be back within an hour."

Alighieri nodded his confirmation and turned around, seating himself on the ground with a loud _thud_ and letting his tongue flop out as he watched the boy. Looker smiled slightly as he turned toward the entry hatch to the building. Alighieri often seemed dim-witted to people who first saw him, but Looker knew that the Rock-Type's clumsiness and general buffoonery were all a result of his fast-moving mind. The Armaldo often had so much moving through his mind that he didn't notice the minutiae of his own actions, something which Looker had helped culture into a sort of camouflage. It worked to his advantage when his enemies didn't realize just how intelligent a "simple" Bug-Type Pokémon could be.

Looker opened the door and stepped into a darkened stairwell. The walls were almost mirror-like, black in color and reflective. The door itself was solid steel, and had only admitted him upon scanning a half-dozen of his biological vitals. He made his way through six floors of the dimly lit corridors toward his team's quarters. The barracks' hallways were perpetually kept dark to ensure that all Agents, resting and non-, were able to navigate without abrupt lighting changes, though the entry and exit matched the outside brightness and slowly faded as one went deeper inside. Looker passed only a handful of people as he made his way to his quarters. Those who knew him personally gave him a silent nod, maybe a smile; those who had heard of him more often than not pressed back against the wall as he passed, wide-eyed and awed. Looker was a bit uncomfortable with the hero-worship his abilities sometimes brought, but he knew that Limit usually bore the full brunt of it, so he figured he was building some empathy for his fellow agent.

He froze as a flat black section of wall folded upward and another agent stepped out, coming up short as their eyes met. Looker angled toward him and gave him a once-over, noting his combat readiness.

"_Sei tornato_," He said, "Good. Did you finish your business in Orre?" [2]

Agent Tariq Lightning shouldered his whip and nodded, "Yes. We unearthed the slab and found the records of the keystone being divided and separated. I foretold that you would find one, and… there, at your waist."

Looker glanced downward, to where the sword of Cyrian of Ash hung in its sheath, "Timeater?

"Just so," Lightning replied, eyes flashing silver, "The sword that devours time. A sword of legend: that is the first of the nine."

"And the others?" Looker asked, "You've seen something, I'm sure."

"By this time, Limit has already found one," Lightning said, "But I believe the enemy will realize it before long. They'll begin to mobilize; we must act."

"Tell me where they are and I'll see it done," Looker intoned. He was tired, and he was worn, but if the Plasmas were mobilizing, he wanted to snap up the remaining keystone fragments before they could.

"No need," Lightning said dismissively, "They still must contend with the guardians. That will buy us some time. I have other Agents tracking down the other fragments, but intel is what we lack most. You'll be linking up with Limit soon, correct?"

"Indeed."

"Then I'll meet you there. Give me three days at most, and I'll be there."

"Right," Looker nodded, "I'm retrieving some armaments, and I'll be on my way."

"Be my guest," Lightning replied, stepping aside and gesturing through the panel.

Looker stepped through into the soft orange glow of his team's quarters. The room was relatively large, circular, with a pillar in the middle streaming live data from around the world. Arrayed around it was a quartet of couches, each in the individual style of their preferred sitter. Legend's, obviously, was a soft, downy reclining couch, with more pillows than Looker had ever seen outside of that warehouse in Ekruteak City where he once stashed a few bodies. There were also half a hundred different massage settings, the secrets of which Legend was oddly protective of.

Paul's was rectangular and rigid, like the man himself, although if one lay on it long enough, they would notice a sort of softness underneath the firm exterior. Looker thought it fitting for his fellow Agent, and had brought it to give the quarters "a bit of Paul's personality" as a gag gift, but was surprised when the Veilstone native had been quite taken with it.

Looker's own was soft and pliant, memory foam, like his bed. He could sink into hidden depths of that couch and relax, unwind, forget about the horrible things he'd seen and done. It was an escape and a retreat, but also a place where he could be comfortable with friends, companions. Brothers, he supposed.

Limit's was…different. With soft lines of light running through it, it looked like a couch made for the movie _TRON_. Sockets and wires surrounded it and several hologram screens ran constant feeds of data from _Legion_. Its soft beeping gave Looker some comfort that nothing too urgent was happening.

He couldn't stay here. He had to get going: grab the stuff and go, that was the plan. He moved for the weapons wall, depressing a hidden panel along one corner of the octagonal room. One wall broke into ten separate panels, each one flipping over to reveal a set of personal armaments. Looker hesitated a moment, unsure of what all to bring. Lightning had already retrieved what materials he required, so at least his needs were met.

He retrieved his fold-out tomahawk, stored away when a covert mission required him to be minimally armed. He grabbed two belts and a grenade box and began to move out when something stopped him. He turned back, slowly, eyeing the weapon that he knew had caught his attention. A long barreled hunting rifle, scope attached, and a large case. He knew that case. That technology had limited application, but if the enemy was moving…

Looker made his decision, tossing another Pokéball, "Cartesio! I need you!"

His companion formed before him, round and somewhat flat, silvery-grey and covered in iron spikes. Three vines tipped with heavy-looking anchors sprouted from its top, and yellow, triangular eyes blinked warily at its new surroundings.

"Cartesio, old boy, I need your help carrying these weapons," Looker said to his Ferrothorn.

Cartesio looked briefly at the rifle and case, then at Looker's armspan, and made an approximation of a nod, uncoupling himself from the ceiling and turning sideways, using his feelers to lash the weapons to his topside.

"You're just gonna roll along behind me?" Looker asked. At Cartesio's grunt, he nodded, "Well, okay then."

It took only a few minutes to get everything loaded into the gunship, Satoshi still dozing as Alighieri and Cartesio lifted the last of the equipment in. Looker tossed Alighieri a strip of bacon from the sandwich he had requisitioned and handed Cartesio a bag of fertilizer he'd swiped from the greenhouse on Level Six. Thanking the two, he returned them to their balls and boarded the gunship. Then he sat there, beside the boy he'd sworn to protect, waiting.

0000000000

_The _Orchid_, In-Transit to Kanto, 1:34 PM UST_

Cynthia blinked concernedly as she watched Limit tug one of the many ropes on the ship into place. She wasn't afraid to admit that she had absolutely no idea what any of the lines did, but Limit and Darach seemed to know what they were doing.

"How's he been holding up?" She asked aloud.

From somewhere behind her, Caitlin answered, "What do you mean?"

Cynthia shook her head, turning around, "You know what I mean. You're the one with psychic powers, after all."

The ship was spacious enough, for a cruise yacht. A catamaran-type dual-engine boat, the _Orchid_ was equipped with all the amenities one could expect of a yacht: well-furnished living areas, a good sundeck, comfortable quarters, the works. The deck was varnished oak, the hull reinforced with steel, the sails made from strong canvas. The lines were pulled taut, the engines ran smoothly. Anchors aweigh.

Caitlin sat on one of the beach chairs of the sun deck, a large parasol above her shielding her pale skin from the sun as she had changed into a lighter outfit, a knee-length skirt and T-shirt, her hair woven into a thick plait, "I'd assume he's doing well."

"Cat!" Cynthia admonished, "This is important!"

"Relax, Cynthia. Have you forgotten?" At the Sinnoh Champion's confused look, Caitlin smiled and tapped her cheekbone under her right eye, hidden by a pair of slim sunglasses, "He can render my power useless if he so chooses. Anyway, I suspect the other him wouldn't appreciate that too much, now would he?"

Cynthia groaned, "He's shutting us out again!"

"No he isn't," Cynthia turned, seeing Caitlin's amused expression, "He's not down or angry or bitter about anything. He's accepted what happened and took it in stride. He's thrown himself into his work. He's a workaholic, like you."

"I am not a workaholic!"

A heavy hand disheveled Cynthia's blond tresses, "Are so. How long has it been since you left Sinnoh last?"

Cynthia was quiet for a long while before mumbling something.

"Sorry, couldn't hear that."

"…two years."

Limit removed his hand, towering over the two of them, "I rest my case."

"Shouldn't you be at the helm?" Caitlin asked, eying Limit over the rim of her glasses.

"I already patched _Legion_ into the autopilot system. We don't have to worry."

The Lady Royeaux smiled, "Very good."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go defend my meal ticket from the beasts."

Limit sauntered toward the aft deck, where he had hauled the mammoth Octillary onto a barge. Sadly, even covered and protected from rot and sun, many manner of sea creature sought to get a bite of Limit's catch.

Caitlin settled back in her chair and gazed at Cynthia, "Go on…"

Cynthia pursed her lips in frustration, then sat down by Caitlin's feet, "I'm just worried. Worried that he'll shut us out again, and then…like the last time."

Caitlin sighed, sitting up and removing the glasses, "He won't. He's stronger now, different than before. He's got something to fight for now."

In the distance, they could hear Limit shouting something like, "Keep your grubby little hands off my meal ticket!" accompanied by the sound of canvas slapping something into the water.

Cynthia smiled and threw her gaze skyward, "I guess you're right."

Above them the sun shone brightly. A good omen.

0000000000

Pelliper_-class Gunship, Registry EE010-IP, En-Route to Kanto, 10:53 PM JST_

Looker sat back in the shadows of the gunship bay. Satoshi and Hilbert still slept in the other corner, and the pilots weren't in a chatty mood. Maria and Hilbert's Serperior rested outside their Pokéballs, on guard duty of a sort. Looker settled against a cushioned bench and began to drift off. He wondered what the others were doing, closing his eyes and leaning back into the cool padding of the bench.

He opened his eyes to a blurry vision over sunlight and green. He blinked a few times to dissolve away the caul of sleep, bringing the world into focus. Around him loomed a great forest, with trees that grew tall and broad and that blocked out great swaths of clear blue sky with their leaves. A small, well-trodden path through the forest was dappled in sunlight and shade, the gurgling sound of a rocky brook echoing from not far away. Somewhere he heard the coo of a Pidove.

Looker himself lay among the greenery on the side of the forest path. It was comfortable here, peaceful. Something he hadn't had in a long while. Soft grass grew beneath him, tickling the palm of his hand, one on the forest floor, the other against his stomach. Beneath his head was something soft, warm, but he didn't turn his head, loathe to break this almost alien peacefulness.

He didn't need to. Two hands framed his face, warm and calloused, rousing him enough to look at their bearer. She smiled down at him, golden hair cut shorter than he had ever remembered it, adorned with a shockingly pink flower, smile angelic. Caitlin Royeaux.

He sighed softly, "This is no dream," He murmured.

Caitlin, or at least _this_ Caitlin, leaned over him, her hair tickling his ears as she clasped her lips to his, saying breathily, "No, it is not."

He grinned as she drew back, pulling himself upright, "Where are we, now?"

Her smile was marred by some confusion, her hands wandering down to smooth out the pink dress she wore. It was similar to the dress she'd been wearing when he'd visited her in his own world (well, at least when he'd arrived. She hadn't been wearing it when he left, had she?), "Ilex Forest, of course. Where else would we be?"

Looker leaned forward, taking one of her hands in his absently, "I know not. How could I? I've only just arrived."

Caitlin tilted her head, "Just…oh." She sighed and looked downward, but left her hand in Looker's, "Another episode? What brought you here?"

"I know not," Looker repeated, "I was…on a gunship, flying to Kanto. It was rather quiet, no distractions, nothing weighing on me. I don't know why I'm here. Most places I go, I can help out somehow or learn something. But here…I don't know."

"Idiot!" Caitlin huffed, "I spent weeks trying to convince him to take me to the shrine, and then _this_ happens!"

"The shrine? Ilex Forest Shrine?"

"Of course!"

It was Looker's turn to be confused, "Why?"

Caitlin looked down again, blushing slightly, "To say _thank you_. Without Celebi, you wouldn't be here, right? I mean, I don't know about your own world, but in all the episodes you—I mean _he_—has had, Celebi was a constant."

"Aye, that's right."

"So I just…I wanted to thank the Spirit of the Forest…for you—him—being here."

Looker cocked his head a bit and smiled, "It's always good to give gratitude for the things you appreciate," He stood, extending a hand to her, "C'mon, I'll take you."

She looked up at him, "It's that easy? Why'd it take so long to convince _him_?"

Looker grew somber, "This forest represents everything good and bad that's ever happened to me. It all coalesced here. Here was where I gained the friends I hold dear to my heart. Here is where I lost my family," He touched a hand to his chest, over his heart where he knew the envelope would be, "_When you begin to doubt the truth_," He whispered.

"Leonardo?"

He turned to Caitlin, seeing her troubled look, and smiled easily, "Nothing. Just the musings of an uncertain man."

He traced a winding course through the greenery until he came upon a stream, one he recognized. From there he guided Caitlin through a maze of trees and shrubs and wild Pokémon. He ducked under the bough of an oak tree, leading her out into an open clearing.

"The shrine's just on the other side, through that tunnel of trees," He said, then let out a deep breath.

This did not escape Caitlin's notice, "What's the matter?"

"This is the first time I've come back in almost twenty years," He uttered, gazing at the dark tunnel with something close to wistfulness, "I honestly never thought I'd see this place again."

"Even in your own world you never went back?"

"Not once."

"You remembered the way."

"My family has a long memory."

"You're hiding something."

Looker opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, chewing his cheek, "I didn't want to come back here… because I was afraid. Afraid that it would happen again. I don't want to lose everything again."

Caitlin looked at him for a long while, then took his hand in hers, "We don't have to go in, you know."

"No, I think it's something I was meant to do. There's a reason why I'm here, and why it was this world that brought me here. Space-time doesn't fuck around, _bella mia_."

She smiled at his language, "Then let's go in."

He nodded and followed her, then tilted his head. Something had been troubling him, "Cat?"

"Yeah?"

"The callouses on your hands."

"Your Caitlin doesn't have them?"

"No."

"She like me?"

"Kind, sweet, and understanding?"

"You're laying it on thick."

"Yeah, she is."

"The callouses are from the string of my bow."

He raised an eyebrow, "A bow?"

"Recurve bow. I prefer it to a longbow. Makes up with power what it lacks in range."

"I see," He nodded in some confusion, "My Caitlin developed her psychic abilities."

"I was never able to master them very well, and they were rather weak overall."

"That's one difference, then," He muttered.

They walked in silence to the end of the leafy tunnel. Breaking out into a clearing of sunlight and calm. A shrine the color of brass sat imperiously at the other end, oddly domineering for something so small.

Leonardo gripped her hand. Strange, when did he start thinking of himself as Leonardo again? He'd been Looker for so very long he thought he'd buried his old self. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Leonardo didn't disappear. Only showed one side of himself, the facade that called itself _Looker_.

"Whatever happens, don't let go of my hand."

"Leonardo—"

He smiled at the way his name fell from her lips, "For me?"

At that she had to return his grin, sidling up to him as they approached the shrine.

Maybe he _was_ beginning to think of himself that way again. Paul had never really taken on the name Landing very well, had always seemed comfortable as Paul. Not even his full name, just Paul. Legend was exactly the opposite, she who buried herself in her name, made herself exactly what her name suggested: a _legend_, a near-supernatural Agent from whom no target could escape. Limit was a mixed bag in that regard. The Limit he spoke to every day went by that name, tried to immerse himself in it, but the other Limit…well, he was something of a wild beast, wasn't he? He rarely referred to any of them by their codenames, those moments he was in total control, not even Limit himself.

That struck him; if the other Limit were to gain control during their Operation, Limit's cover could be compromised. But if that was so, then why was Limit…ah. Leonardo understood now. Limit knew that his other self was a risk, but he was willing to take that risk. He could have stayed high up in space, relaying information back and forth between agents and carriers and strategists, but that wasn't like him. He needed to be where the action was, regardless of the consequences.

Limit no longer cared who knew his name.

Leonardo let himself say the name aloud, barely a breath as he and Caitlin drew close to the shrine. His fingers tightened momentarily, almost stifling Caitlin's, but he relaxed quickly. The shrine was peaceful, empty. It showed no signs of anything unusual.

Caitlin went to her knees, her hand still held in his, bowing her head. With her other hand she gracefully plucked the pink flower from her hair and lay it before the shrine, and now Leonardo was able to recognize it. A Gracidea, a flower of gratitude.

"Thank you, Celebi. Thank you for everything. For watching over the world, over us…but especially for Leonardo." Tears glittered at the corners of her eyes, but she was smiling and didn't wipe them away, "Thank you for him. You are the reason he is here, and for that, I can't offer up anything less than my deepest gratitude…thank you…"

Leonardo moved to hold her as she sagged slightly, "Caitlin!"

"I'm alright," She assured him, sitting upright, her posture less erect than before, "That was just…a catharsis or sorts." She closed her eyes and leaned against him.

He stroked her hair a few times, smiling and wondering how long he had for this world. The answer wasn't long in coming.

Fragments of visions began to flash before his eyes, scenes from lives that were his and yet not his. Sliding down an icy slope, digging in his tomahawk to break his slide. Leaping from a plane, tumbling through the air.

"I'll be going soon, Cat," He murmured, holding her, "Thank you for everything."

She smiled softly and took one of his hands, pressing a kiss to his palm while he could still feel his body, "Good luck, Leonardo…I know I'm not _your_ Caitlin, but I think she'd want me to say this: I love you."

Leonardo smiled, closing his eyes, "And I you, your Leonardo would say…goodbye, Caitlin. I'll have to see about that recurve bow."

He opened his eyes to the darkness of the gunship bay again. Nothing had changed in the time he was gone. Hilbert and Satoshi still dozed in the corner. Serperior still dozed in one corner, but Maria seemed to be aware that things had changed. She hopped over to him with a series of soft _clink_ sounds, nudging her head, warm, hardened steel beneath his arm and settled down against him. Until he'd met her, he'd always wondered about the composition of a Skarmory's feathers, but they were as downy as any other bird's. But they could sheathe their wings in hard-plated steel, Leonardo knew. Much like himself. Of all his Pokémon, Maria was one of the two he was closest to. The other one…well, that was another matter altogether.

He was headed into a storm. "Batten down the hatches!" he could hear Limit shouting over thundering gales. There was no turning back. Trapped. The last time Leonardo had stepped over the Edge of the Wild, he'd barely made it back. Now, heading to this wedding, he felt the same feeling as that last time, the scars on his chest tingle in anticipation. This was going to be fun.

He settled back with Maria and waited, donning his own suit of armor. Leonardo became Looker once more.

0000000000

_Harrison Residence, Pewter City, Kanto, 11:23 AM KST_

Paul was at something of a crossroads. On the one hand, he'd managed to convince himself that Ash's friends really weren't all that bad…really! On the other hand, the fact that the wedding preparations took up over four acres of land was getting him rather nervous. It was the kind of nervousness that made him reach a hand up to Morningedge's hilt, and made him long for Looker's backup. He'd have felt the same nervousness were he there, but he had yet to arrive. Paul really hoped he got there soon.

Legend was roaming across the town, picking the best location for her nest: long lines of sight down the major avenues of entry, high enough to avoid most enemy fire, concealed. Paul's duty was to set up a base of operations in preparation for the arrival of his comrades. Looker was inbound by air, Limit and Lightning by sea. Limit had said the he would be docking in Vermillion City and proceeding with Caitlin on foot. Looker would be dropping Satoshi off in Pallet Town before flying to Pewter City with Hilbert at his side. That left Lightning. Tariq Lightning would be the first to arrive.

Paul had everything ready at his base, but whether he could deal with Tariq Lightning on his own was another matter. They'd never been the best of friends, but Paul and he had nearly died for one another multiple times over. If he couldn't trust another Agent, he couldn't trust anyone.

"Something on your mind, Paul?"

Paul turned, an awkward thing to do when one is sitting with one's back to a fence post, to see Drake of the Hoenn Elite Four loom over him, a towering shadow. He shook his head, "Just wondering if I can really pull this off."

Drake sat down against the adjacent side of the post, offering Paul a bottle of whiskey. He took a deep swig and wiped his mouth against his sleeve, the burn of the alcohol bringing him into a clearer focus as he handed the drink back.

"I've never found a problem that a little whiskey wouldn't help solve," Drake chuckled as he tossed back more of the drink, "What seems to be yours?"

Paul sighed, leaning back against the post and holding his hand out for the bottle. The glass tube slapped into his hand and he began, "Are you familiar with Agent Vladimir Limit?"

Drake nodded, "We've met before, you know this."

"Yes, but do you know who he _is_? Who he _really_ is?"

"I've never been told, but I know enough to guess. He's coming here?"

"Yeah."

Drake shifted, looking Paul in the eye, "Is he ready?"

"Limit is ready for any eventuality."

"Paul," He was locked in his gaze, _"Is. He. Ready?"_

Paul was shaken for a moment and looked down, muttering quietly.

"What was that?"

"I don't know."

They sat there in silence for a long while, passing the bottle back and forth until it was empty. Paul thought long about Limit. He didn't know, and that was the crux of it. He wasn't even sure if Limit knew.

_'Ashura,'_ The word came unbidden to his mind. He would know. But would he answer? Unlikely, it seemed. Paul was on his own.

Paul was very suddenly _not_ on his own when a brunette from Hoenn tripped over his legs. May managed to catch herself and tumble into a crouch before looking back.

"Oh! Sorry, Paul!"

"'S fine," Paul grunted noncommittally, "Watch your feet next time."

She nodded and stood upright. For a moment it seemed as though she would move on, but instead she turned back and sighed, "Paul?"

"Mmm-hmm?"

"Why does Looker hate me?" Paul nearly choked on his own tongue, uttering a deep, low laugh, "What?!"

"May, if Looker hated you, you'd be dead."

She looked at him, a mix of sadness and confusion on her face and sat cross-legged in the grass beside him, "Explain."

"Looker knew Ash better than any of us. I'd known him longer, but I never got to know him until after we were brought together. Looker…Looker found Ash when he was sunken low. Rock bottom. Any lesser man would have left him as he was…any man but Looker.

"_Fate whispered in my ear_, Looker told me, _Said that his was a fate to which all of ours is tied_…I never asked him what he meant. Sometimes I thought he must have been crazy, but sometimes…sometimes I think he might have been right."

"Doesn't matter now, does it?" May whispered, her voice dead, "Ash is gone."

Paul gazed at her for a long moment, "Yeah…he's gone.

"Ash and Looker were close, practically brothers. If there's any way you might have hurt Ash, then Looker will hold it against you. It's in his blood."

May was quiet for a while, "It was—"

"Don't." May stared at him, something like fear or worry in her eyes, but he waved his hand, "Don't tell me. If I need to know, I'll ask Looker."

She nodded, then curled her arms around her knees, "Is there any way I can talk to him? Looker, I mean."

Paul let out a long breath, "I don't know. Looker should be here either today or tomorrow…but whether he'll want to speak to you is up to him."

May nodded, "Thank you." Then she simply stood and left.

_"You know,"_ Legend said into his earpiece, _"She's gonna be really pissed when she finds out."_

"They all will," Paul answered, "We'll burn that bridge when we get there."

_"Not really in your character, just rushing in without a plan. I _like,_"_ Paul could practically hear Legend's playful grin through the earpiece.

"I don't have enough data to render any sort of plan. From here on out, we just wing it."

_"You sure about that?"_

Paul smirked, "Never more."

0000000000

_Two days later_

How had it all come to this? Paul thought as a deflected lightning bolt fused the ground between his feet into glass. How could a simple, routine information-farming mission have escalated into a full-blown warzone?

He'd been walking Limit to the pavilion he'd set up as their headquarters when they'd chanced upon Sabrina. Something snapped between the two of them at that moment. In a matter of femtoseconds, Agent Vladimir Limit and Sabrina of Saffron City had gone from random acquaintances to mortal enemies. The roadside was littered with the remains of various explosions. Long, jagged lines of glass cast bright reflections and rainbows all about, and the fragments of several fence posts lay embedded in the ground.

Limit cackled maniacally as he slapped away another high-speed stake, splintering the wood with an arc of lightning, "THIS is what battle should be!" He roared, a mad grin on his face, "Thunder and lightning and destruction! No monsters, no swords, only the power in your bare hands!"

Sabrina screamed something incomprehensible back at him as she fragmented a nearby boulder and hurled the shrapnel in his direction. Limit grinned, holding up a hand and projecting a great blue arc, absorbing or deflecting what shards came near him.

"This is FUN, isn't it?" He laughed, "THIS is what makes a man!"

He threw both his hands skyward, a grand bolt of electricity searing through the air, blotting out the sun with its radiance. Sabrina managed to throw a shield up in time, but the power of the attack blew her out of the sky. She fell to earth, impacting hard enough to form a small crater. Limit charged, slamming his hands into the ground and ripping from it a wicked-looking broadsword made from stone and obsidian, swinging the blade at Sabrina hard enough to sever her head from her neck if she hadn't brought up a slab of granite to block. Both stones shattered and Limit jabbed at Sabrina with a fistful of lightning. Sabrina managed to deflect it, but the crater's uneven terrain caused her to trip and fall to the ground. Limit loomed over her, electricity crackling from either hand as he smiled madly, drawing back one arm.

Unnoticed by anyone but Paul, a small crowd had been drawn by the sound and light of the explosions. Dawn had been the first at the scene, Piplup close behind her, but had recoiled at the acrid smoke that burned at her lungs. Misty had the sense to cover her mouth and nose with a damp cloth, but even so her eyes still watered and she had to retreat. Brock had managed to get close, but Paul had dragged him back, a splinter of rock flying past them as he hauled the Gym Leader behind an earthen shelter.

Limit's hands glowed with electricity as he drew back, a blade of lightning forming as he snarled down at the fallen Psychic. The blade fell, and somewhere behind them May Maple screamed.

May had covered her eyes as the man in the black coat had brought down his lightning-blade, not wanting to see the end results. But there came no _thud_, nor the _thump_ of a head rolling across the earth in ponderous finality. Only a harsh sizzling noise, like someone had dunked hot metal into a barrel of water.

She slowly uncovered her eyes as the smoke cleared, revealing to her one of the strangest sights she'd ever seen.

The man in black still stood, poised over the fallen Sabrina. In his left hand the electricity began to die away, but in his right, the lightning blade had dissipated, sheared apart by the ice-sheathed sword that had impacted his knuckles, not even breaking the cloth of his gloves. In his hand, Agent Salacastern Looker held a long arc of frozen steel, his face stern.

"That's enough, my student," Looker uttered, straining one-armed against the man's fist, ice frozen along the length of the blade, even crusting over his fingers. Errant sparks arced up and away from the pair as they stood still for a moment, _"Stand down."_

For a moment, it seemed that the man it black would argue, or lash out at him, but his expression stilled, taking on a mix of dawning understanding and slight horror. Slowly, somewhat shakily, he brought his hand down. Looker nodded, withdrawing his blade. He inspected the coat of ice along the sword's length and ran his hand along the length of the blade, shattering the ice and melting it away. He turned to Sabrina and pulled her to her feet.

"Injured?"

She shook her head, "No, just rattled. That…that wasn't him, was it?"

Looker mulled over his answer, "No," He looked back at a still-shaken Limit, "Just someone who looks like him. Get going…and for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Sabrina nodded and moved to leave, taking a few steps, but before she could get much further, something jarred the aura around her, and she turned back, halfway through a shout before she saw what was happening.

Limit's hand coursed with more voltage, but Looker's hand was around his wrist, pointed skyward. An immense bolt of something like frozen lightning, arching bolts of electricity and ice crisscrossing the sky, dimming everything with an unearthly blue glow as Looker's eyes gleamed with mirth and Limit cracked an honest, playful grin.

The light show faded, as well as Limit's smile, and all the world seemed to return to normal. Paul breathed a sigh of relief.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ABOUT?!" Misty shouted, all but stampeding up to Limit, "Just who the hell are you?!"

"Please back away from me," Limit sighed, turning away.

Looker leaned against a boulder, watching the proceeding with some interest. What would Vladimir Limit do if she didn't?

"And why should I?" Misty asked angrily, "You just nearly killed one of my friends!"

"I wasn't trying to kill her," Limit said flatly, his back to her, "That was…a greeting. An introductory near-death experience, if you will."

"I _won't._ Who the hell are you?"

Three things happened in the next instant. First, Misty made a rash, rather uncoordinated grab for Limit's wide-brim hat. This sort of grab would normally have missed and/or been met with severely painful repercussions if not for the second thing.

Second, Limit turned back around to face Misty to answer her question, not realizing that she had already made a mad grab for his hat. This poor turn of events was only exacerbated by event number three.

Third and finally, Pikachu vaulted over Paul's unsuspecting head, hurtling toward Limit like a very yellow bullet.

These three actions sped forward on their collision course with only one result. Misty tripped over Limit's turning foot, dislodging his hat and skewing it to one side as he backpedalled to avoid her fall. Pikachu, already in midair and unable to correct his course, bounced off the rim of Limit's hat, dislodging it entirely, freeing long, spiky black hair, half tamped-down with wrapped bandages. The hat tumbled away, rolling to a stop against Looker's boot.

Misty drew back in shock at the spiked hair. Limit was still in a defensive crouch, his head turned downward, black locks still shielding his face.

"Who _are_ you?"

He relaxed slightly as Pikachu dashed up the length of his body to his shoulder. The black shock at the back of his head settled as he willed away the instinctually summoned electricity. He stood erect, shaking away the remainder of his hair.

May's eyes widened with a mix of astonishment and shock, _"ASH?!"_

Her shout was echoed by everyone there, all of them stunned at the figure that stood before them. All but three. Agent Vladimir Limit, who had once called himself Ash Ketchum, merely pulled his hair back, keeping it from tangling with the bandages that covered his left eye. He smiled fondly as Pikachu rubbed cheeks with him, both discharging small arcs of electricity in companionship.

Paul dusted off Limit's hat, tossing it to him with a spin. The other agent accepted the hat, settling it on his head and walking to clasp hand with him.

"Paul," He chuckled, "Sorry, I kinda blew my cover."

Paul shook his head, "You did what you had to. Let the past rest."

Looker's reaction was entirely different. He took in the sea of faces, of Ash's old friends, the shock and awe in their expressions. He found it amusing, escalating from a low chuckle into full-force laughter.

But Agent Looker managed to calm himself to an amused smirk, and cackled loudly.

"Ain't that one hell of a cold shock?"

**/**

**And that's that! Sorry if it's shorter than you're used to. I've been dealing with a lot of business, as well as a personal loss in my family. But I'm back and better than ever! (I hope.) Here's to a new year and a new chapter in the life of Agent Vladimir Limit!**

**Your friendly neighborhood author,**

**Cortega**


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